Missile
I'm hanging from the pylon waiting. I never get bored of watching. I'm always ready.
My sensors sniff a patch of heat close by. I let my pilot know by beeping in his ear.
The plane banks, the scent now stronger. I gain a lock and I'm filled with ecstasy. I warble at the pilot in my excitement and he releases me.
I drop from the wing and fire belches from my engine. I rush along the scent following it to my destination. It tries to escape, but I hit the enemy and exult in the moment of our demise.
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