The glimmer writhes like curdling milk, or like tentacles unwinding themselves from the tree branches. She drives down a shudder and tries to focus on where the glimmer isn't shining: a human-shaped silhouette further up.
With one hand, she unhooks the canister.
With the other, she aims for (what she hopes is) the person's kneecap and fires.
no subject
The glimmer writhes like curdling milk, or like tentacles unwinding themselves from the tree branches. She drives down a shudder and tries to focus on where the glimmer isn't shining: a human-shaped silhouette further up.
With one hand, she unhooks the canister.
With the other, she aims for (what she hopes is) the person's kneecap and fires.