You switch off the safety, raise the rifle to your shoulder, and aim. It's nerve-racking to wait until the yellow beak pauses between shrieks. Watching for a good shot at this creature is like nothing you've ever done before, and definitely more challenging than you envisioned.
Now! You draw back your finger on the trigger with smooth pressure, no sudden jerks. The bullet pierces that big black eye. The pterosaur's body spasms. That impossibly long neck arcs back. Its free wing flaps, then drops. Those stilt-like legs pitch to one side. The great flier crashes to the ground and lies still. Congratulations, O mighty hunter, on a well-placed shot. There's enough of the head left to make an enormous wall-mounted display.
You let out a long breath as your adrenaline rush ebbs. Now that this is over and done with, a bunch of competing thoughts and feelings mill around inside your head, each one trying to outshout the rest. There is one that you keep coming back to, that resonates the most with you: