Your target practice was in order, and needed. Down at the range, you fired your gun, aiming perfectly. Hitting that circle right in the middle single everytime. You put the gun down and looked to Mace who was watching over this whole practice, you were expecting him to be impressed.

"What? You want a cookie?" He said in an unimpressed manner. It wasn't impressive to hit the target, it was an expectation that you should already be exceeding, and you weren't.