[i]Vyliks stood a fair distance away, just in visible range of Aerile. He wasn't precisely following her or anything of the sort, but had stumbled upon her position in a scavenging run. His tattered Devil's cloak fluttered in the chilled winds of the Cosmodrome, the feathers and crimson fabric wrapped around him for warmth. Seeing the Guardian approaching her and inspecting her closely, he unslung his line rifle from his back, grasping the stock and under barrel with his two upper arms, raising it upwards and peering down the marksman sights. Pulling back on the trigger, the charge-up of the rifle could be heard from their distance away.[/i]