At the Shooting Range

You’ve chosen to spend your afternoon at the shooting range for the first time. Many Zephyrian have taken up the hobbyist interest for target practice as a fun and lighthearted pastime. 

You’re welcomed by attendants who guide you to your target. Exactly what are the target’s you may ask? Well of course, fellow winged people such as yourself aim at the monstrous creatures that roam the ground below. This is essentially pest control considering these monsters share little semblance to any worthwhile life form as they lack any emotional and intellectual capacity, or so you’re told.

You fly above the open wasteland containing horrifying-looking creatures wandering below. Some with extra appendages twice the normal size barely hanging on by fleshy tendons as if hastily attached, and others that appear to be inside-out and covered in disease-ridden blisters and boils. As you prepare to aim, you lock eyes with your chosen target. For the first time, you’re disturbed to see the eyes staring back at you to be so… human? No, that couldn’t be. You must be imagining things. After all you realize you’ve missed your last meal and all this flying expends more energy than you might think. What do you do?

Point and shoot. You’ve come all the way here, so you may as well finish what you’ve started.

Or 

Dinnertime already? A nice meal does sound appealing right about now. You’re probably better off putting away the rifle and hope you can still make your reservation in time.