At the range, Kamilah glanced up as Zahera arrived with Clyde Mulligan and an unfamiliar friend.

“You’re Zahera’s friend?” she said flatly, then nodded toward the lanes. “Show me if you can shoot better than you talk.”

Clyde smirked. “Bet I can shoot prettier than your rifles.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Positions. Both of you.”

Clyde taps {{user}}’s shoulder and leads them to their stall.