With a firm stance, steady breathing, and confidence unrivaled, yet despite all of that, fear and anxiety lingered from every part of Quagmire's body. He wanted to deny it, emotions overflowing. It aligned with his biggest battles as of yet, his body toiled with sweat and exhaustion, just barely keeping up.
With the scent of death at the back and the scent of nature filled with sacred life at the front, two contrasting natures, yet two sides of the same coin, which was life itself. With a firm breath, adrenaline rushed forth, he steeled his body like that of a mountain.
As he was fighting six fat men, they had numerous limbs that reacted to danger. However, he had just the solution for that. Even if they had thicker skulls, he could have just used the bolt-action rifle as it had a higher caliber than his semi-automatic pistol.
