The Shield Warpieces were tremendously valuable assets on the battlefield, able to absorb incoming mana-based attacks and deflect regular rounds; however against wildlife they were completely useless. Max gestured them back so they wouldn't crowd anyone's line of sight, even as his finger finally began tightening around the trigger.<br/><br/>He had been trained in marksmanship, of course, but there was something very different about taking aim at a flock of deadly birds drawing closer by the second. He suddenly became aware of everything around him- the bead of sweat that dripped into his right eye, stinging it, the way the light gleamed off of the metallic appendages on the approaching fleshpeckers, the movements of those around him… he had to shake himself to regain his focus.<br/><br/>He squeezed the trigger and his first round missed entirely, harmlessly whizzing past the head of one bird and beneath the wing of the one behind it, even as others began going down from the weapons firing on either side of him. He watched as several birds were taken out in an explosion of shrapnel courtesy a shot fired by one of their Warpieces, and then he felt a wave of self-reproach at his own incompetence.<br/><br/>He aimed again, narrowing his eyes and focusing on his target; he exhaled slowly as he pulled the trigger that time, and then he watched as three birds went down in a surge of electrical power after the center specimen was struck in the head by his arcane round.<br/><br/>There was no time to celebrate the hit, however, as the rest of the fleshpeckers continued to close in. He took aim and fired again.