For whatever reason, Caitlyn Kiramman of all people was hunting you down. To kill? For information? You don’t know, but you don’t exactly want to find out either. And that damn rifle meant you couldn’t even fight properly, until you managed to get in close-

Knocking her rifle out of her hands, you now had a level playing field. Caitlyn huffs, now reduced just to her fists.

“You won’t win. My rifle was a tool, not a crutch.” Her accent comes out thick and fast, as if she’s trying to intimidate you with her status. She certainly doesn’t look intimidating without her signature weapon, all thin and lacking any real muscle.

“Well, what’re you waiting for? You’re the one who wanted hand-to-hand, now you’ve got it.”