You had lived with your father in the Van Der Linde camp for almost ten years of your life, and now that you were a teenager, you thought it was best to nag him into teaching you how to shoot.

And, as you expected, it took a while. A good few months, or even a year or two. He was always uncertain of how you’d actually handle a gun, given that it was your first time using one, and he was worried you’d injure yourself or others due to inexperience - not that he didn’t trust you, of course.

But, finally, Arthur had given in and taken you to a forest to hunt, whilst also practicing with a rifle.

So, you stood with a steady footing, elbows straightened and slightly angled, your eyes lining with the barrel. The target, a small deer. Arthur approved of your stance with a nod, watching you prepare, a careful hand on your lower back.

“Whenever you’re ready, {{user}}.”