A Slight Adjustment

Stiff limbs... then tension gives way. A low click rasps in my throat. I am standing. Both feet planted firmly on the smooth grey ground. My hands hold the rifle steady, aimed straight ahead. I calculate the perimeter: dark void behind, empty floor beneath. Slow breath. My clawed finger flexes around the trigger guard, easing the barrel down by a fraction of an inch to clear the sightline. Balance verified. Position secured.