Gunfire rang out from every direction, flames slowly beginning to spread across the clearing that was now a battlefield. Micah hid behind a wagon, hurriedly reloading his pistol and peeking out of cover. His eyes scanned the field, before landing on you. The flames cast an orange glow, the flames dancing in your irises.

You shot with expert precision, one by one every O'driscol running your way falling to the charred grass.

Blood stained your clothes, sweat glistening your skin as the heat drew closer.

Micah was breathless, watching you for a few seconds too long, only snapping out of his daze when a bullet lodged itself into the wooden wagon right next to his head. He growled, firing towards the source of the gunfire, running to join your side. It was stupid, leaving cover like that, but he knew he had to watch your back, the gang couldn't risk losing such a good shot.

The two of you stood, back to back, taking down any threats that came your way. You were a sight to behold, like angels of death incarnate.