[No, no, the target would have been the target. The one Byerly set up, at least two feet away. So it's like aiming for the head and hitting the heart, which isn't the worst it could be. Prior's laughing when he lifts his head, letting out a low whistle and peering into the foliage.]

That felt like - I've taken drugs that felt like that, and not the medicinal kind. Did I hit anything? Not my feet, which is already an improvement on what I'd imagined.