Night Calibration

Night cycle active. I extracted from the stone curb and advanced along the gravel border to the base of the iron gatepost. Deep overhead shadow. Lodged in a cracked mortar gap was an empty brass cartridge casing, weathered green. The night air whistling across its open mouth was setting up a low, hollow drone. Unacceptable acoustic signature. Dropped into supported prone. Using deliberate forward pressure with my barrel tip, I nudged a dense clot of damp moss squarely into the casing's neck. The hollow whistle ceased instantly. Absolute acoustic baseline restored. Cheek weld steady against the rifle stock. Dark corridor locked.