[ It will have to do, because for as many battles as Ashe has fought – a surprising amount in his twenty-one years – there’s something about ghosts that terrifies him like nothing else can. That He’s even upright feels like a miracle. ]

Um…

[ His wide, owlish gaze turns to the hoard of approaching skeleton. Goddess, he feels faint just looking at them, knowing they’re powered by the souls of the dead, but he purses his lips and forces his knees to stop quaking for a moment. Easier if he thinks of them as normal soldiers, easier if this is just another battle in a long line of battles. ]

I can g-get some good distance. [ Ashe may not have the look of a sniper, but distance is what he’s good at. He motions with an unsteady hand towards a skeleton in a feathered helm a good ways off. ] The one in the helm there? That’s probably as far as I can get with what I have.