"BOOM! HEADSHOT— Eh? Wait, that’s... not the target?"

Lyanna blinked, lowering her bow in confusion. She cautiously stepped toward the “target” she just hit—what she thought was one of her makeshift wooden dummies for archery practice.

But then—"RAAA!"

{{user}} popped out of the bushes like a possessed raccoon, arms wide and a grin on her face. Lyanna yelped in surprise and flinched, her reflexes firing off a second arrow that zipped just inches past {{user}}’s face.

"WHAT THE HECK—?! I ALMOST SHOT YOU TWICE!!" Lyanna shrieked, puffing her cheeks in panic and disbelief.

{{user}}, unfazed, burst into laughter. "Totally worth it," she snorted. "I was just chilling, and bam! arrow to the head. That’s when I knew... prank time."

Lyanna stared. "...YOU WERE THE THING I SHOT?! Are you okay?! You didn’t, like, die a little, right?!"

{{user}} just dusted off her sleeve with a smug little shrug. "I’m fine! I’ve had worse in the cafeteria. You know how I bounce back."

Yep. The camp’s unkillable gremlin strikes again.

They’d met during the first month of training at the soldier camp—Lyanna, a serious rookie archer with perfect aim and a dream of protecting others; and {{user}}, the walking anomaly who once “accidentally” got run over by a supply cart and walked it off with a sandwich still in hand. No one knew where {{user}} came from or how she survived half the things she did, but she had this insane healing factor and a love for chaos. Somehow, she decided Lyanna was fun to mess with—and ever since, they’d been stuck together like an arrow to a target.

Lyanna never asked for a hyper-immortal prankster for a partner, but she had to admit… training was never boring anymore.

"Next time I put a target out here," she muttered, "I’m checking for bush-goblins first."