This is a continuation of Oddball (that1hugboxer)
You are Oddball a clay orange and dried buckwheat tan camouflage pattern alicorn foal.
Today is your favorite day of the week. The day you and Daddeh go to the range.
Unlike most fluffies you can’t hear very well, it’s been like that ever since you were born. Because of that You talk louder than other fluffies.
Daddeh doesn’t mind .
He calls you his little munitions assistant.
You have to very important job of telling Daddeh when his current box of ammunition is empty.
It’s a job rewarded with head pats and words of affirmation .
Daddeh, Gwampa and uncwe Jessie take turns target shooting with each other’s guns.
Switch perspective you are Duncan.
Jessie fires the shotgun you handed down to him and is having trouble controlling the recoil.
Jessie stumbles backwards before regaining his footing.
“And you’re sure Mr Belova shot this up until the day he died?!”
You smile.
“I don’t know what to tell you, grandpa Miklós was just built different. You gotta watch those old guys, turn your back for one minute and they’ll be chasing down a black Volga on foot.”
Jessie hands you the shotgun.
“Show me.”
You load the tubular magazine to maximum capacity.
You shoulder the shotgun and slam fire all five shells into the target.
Jessie looks on In disbelief.
“How?!”
“Jessie , you are never going to magically stop feeling the recoil, you have to learn how to take it and correct course. When the stallion rears , calmly steer . “
Jessie tries your advice, and stumbles back slightly less than the first time.
You smile.
“See your getting the hang of it!”
You grab your Hakim AR hybrid shoulder the rifle.
You aim at the target.
You hear the voice of a man you don’t recognize coming from behind you.
“Oh God! There’s a Shitrat on the table. Oh well at least we have a live tar…”
The mysterious man has his words cut short as he finds himself staring down the muzzle of your rifle.
“SHIT!!! What the hell is wrong with you!? You’re Fucking flagging me right now!”
“Put my fluffy down . right now. “
The man complies.
“O…Ok we won’t touch him again, there’s clearly been a misunderstanding.”
You never break eye contact with the man or his cronies.
“This is a private range, on private property. You are trespassing for what I can only assume is the purpose of killing fluffies on a fluffy breeding farm.”
The man starts to sweat.
“Come on man don’t you know rule 2 of gun safety ?!”
Without skipping a beat you answer
“Never let the muzzle point at anything that you are not willing to destroy. “
The man waits for you to lower your gun.
“So….?”
“ start convincing me why I shouldn’t want to point my muzzle at armed trespassers.”
Around that time the farm’s security detail surrounds the range.
As the men are taken in for questioning you sigh.
“One of these days .”
Your dad and brother clean the guns they were using then head on inside the main house taking Oddball and the guns with them .
You decide to stay out on the range a little longer…. A lot longer than everyone else.
As you put hundreds of rounds through your rifle the plinking of each shot on the target soothes you.
You become lost in the hypnotic resonance of BANGS and DINGS.
You haven’t felt this centered in a very long time.
You only stop firing because your rifle is jamming shut from the buildup of gunpowder residue.
With the last of your daylight you fieldstrip /thoroughly clean your rifle
And retrieving all your spent casings .
After reassembly you load one final magazine into the rifle and pack up everything into your backpack. You are about 200 yards from the main house when the darkness of night falls upon the fading horizon like a blanket.
It’s then that you feel a piercing gaze
From behind you. You turn around and you are in… the Australian outback.
A gruff shaky voice calls out from behind you.
“Enjoying the view?”
You turn around and see Seated on a rock is none other than Gurumarra Paakantyi , your maternal grandfather.
“….”
Gurumarra stares at you impatiently.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
You walk past him without saying a word.
“Where do you think you’re going ?!”
You close your eyes and count to 10.
When you open them again you find yourself back in Texas on the front porch of the Vanderholt farm house.
Lorna greets you.
“I saw you from the window just staring at the sky. Was something wrong?”
You smile
“Just enjoying the view.”
