An instant's hesitation -- too short for any but a gunslinger's eyes to see, maybe, but Roland will know. Then her hand moves in a blur, one-two-three-four-and-fiveatthelastsecond. She doesn't know to fan the hammer; she does it with the thumb of the same hand.
Four bottles explode. One crashes to the ground, splintering on a rock. She scowls at it.
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An instant's hesitation -- too short for any but a gunslinger's eyes to see, maybe, but Roland will know. Then her hand moves in a blur, one-two-three-four-and-fiveatthelastsecond. She doesn't know to fan the hammer; she does it with the thumb of the same hand.
Four bottles explode. One crashes to the ground, splintering on a rock. She scowls at it.