Urban Canyon

Hands starting to sweat, Renly eases his breath until stillness settles around him. Never mind the ache or the awkward position, Renly wears patience like comfortable shoes. Walking down the street, you might find those with the hang-dog look, shuffling along until someone bigger pushes them around. They are the prey. Today, Renly is the predator.

Loud voices heaves echoes against the side of the crumbling brick, distorted enough that Renly fails to make out words. He knows they are talking about him though, hunting him, as he is hunting them. Leaning out of the blasted window, he lets the barrel tip down, down six stories to the top of the team arguing.