Soundlessly completely her pirogue slid down the bank. She followed, careful to pull up her feet from the mud just before they made that slurping noise, and guided the small vessel into the water.
She gracefully stepped into the pirogue and quickly spun around and sat down. She blinked her round, beautiful brown eyes once and picked up the little splintered oar. Boy, was she a sight under that moon.
She rowed out toward the middle of the lake. The water was incredibly still tonight. Everywhere was still tonight. The locusts made no chirp, the frogs no jump, the fish no splash, the birds no flap. Her pirogue, too, was soundless.
She finally reached the center of the lake and put her oar away. She stopped gliding. There she sat now, her back straight as a tree, her big, beautiful brown eyes patient. She bent at her hip and leaned forward, wrapping her long fingers around that Modèle d'Ordnance. She sat back up and, soundlessly, brought it up with her. She studied it just for a moment before blinking her deep, beautiful brown eyes once in approval.
She raised it, not too slowly, to her face. She closed her dark, beautiful brown eyes and squeezed her long fingers. She sent that lead straight through her beautiful brain. Boy, was she a sight under that moon.