47. Fire it Already!
To my slight disappointment, the warden had decided on wearing something more modest today in anticipation of the delivery of supplies: Her usual black coat, a white button-up, and the practical dark pants she’d started wearing after I’d landed a hit in sparring.

With my gray uniform and her current outfit, we looked more like warden and prisoner as opposed to what we really were… whatever that was.

“So,” she said, coming to a stop at our usual spot in the grasslands before turning to face me, “how do you propose we test to see if your gun is safe?” Her eyes went to my hand while she spoke, fixing on the weapon she’d returned to me before we left Stone Lock.

“I think I got an idea…”

I imagined a stool. Bolted to the seat was a small stand to hold the gun in place. The feet of the stool were sharpened into stakes. As I mentally inspected the janky contraption, I realized I needed a decent length of string to pull the gun’s trigger from a safe distance.

Twenty feet of string sh
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