Riza considered her targets, debating on what to do for each distance.
Ten meters was up first. She drew her sidearm and checked the bullets. Six. She could do the first two targets, reload, and do the last two. For the hundred meter shot, she would retrieve her rifle, and an idea was forming for a trick to do with that one, a shot she knew she had done before.
Holding the sidearm in her off hand, she walked up to the target line and stood still for a moment before tossing the gun up and catching it with her right hand. She pointed the gun at the target in a quick and fluid motion, immediately squeezing off three bullets. That close of a range, the target would have had to been Scar for her to miss the bullseye.
Thirty meters next. She moved over to that target, aimed with her right hand, fired, tossed the gun to her left, aimed and fired, and back to her right for the last shot. Now for fifty, a step to the side and consideration as she reloaded, and checked and aimed again. But she didn't squeeze the trigger. Instead, she turned her head, looking away from the target, and stayed stone still, feeling her position. It was off, she corrected the slight aberration in her arm's aim, then fired off her three shots, hitting the target where she'd intended.
Seventy-five. Riza aimed, fired, then dropped to one knee. Aimed, fired, and hit the deck, lying prone as she held the pistol in both hands and fired her third shot. There was slightly more variance in this cluster due to the change in position and the distance, but still stayed well within the middle areas.
Now, for the rifle. She turned and walked back to retrieve it, then cut over to where her husband waited, spoke to him quietly, and waited as he transmuted a blindfold for her out of Josiah's ballcap over the boy's hearty protests, with a promise that Edward would be able to fix it back to how it was later.
Blindfold in one hand and rifle in the other, she walked over to the target line, and dropped to one knee. She draped the blindfold over her leg as she aimed, and remained still for a few moments, just breathing, looking down the scope, and remembering every nuance about her position. Riza lowered the rifle in order to tie the blindfold into place, then raised it again. Moments ticked by as she made miniscule adjustments to her position until it felt right. She fired. She slid the bolt back and loaded another bullet, returning to the position, and not firing until she was certain she was back on target. She did it one final time, and took off the blindfold, and stood. The target looked tattered in the middle region.