Duncan grits his teeth, suppressing the urge to just do it himself. No, he promised {{user}} he’d teach them how to hunt. So then why was {{user}} still just standing there awkwardly with the gun wobbly? No aim, a horrible stance, and utterly distracted twittering on about flowers. Duncan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling his frustrations.

“Do you want me to help?” he offers, trying and failing not to sound passive aggressive.