He stayed there for a long time before looking up. He took a deep breath and stood, keeping his emotions as controlled as he could as he scanned the tables or anything he hadn’t tried. There. There were five of them set expertly on one of the more cluttered table, and Khasr surveyed them for a few moments before cautiously taking one in his hand. It was light and springy, perhaps the quarters of an inch at the middle and tapering gracefully to wicked points at both ends. He twirled it as he had the spear, and it did so gracefully. His anger gone, a grin started to creep into his face as he twirled it again. He stopped when he almost hit a helmet, then giggled and rushed outside, twirling it around and around. He sighted the target, drew back, and let fly. It sliced through the air so gracefully it could have been dancing, soaring clear over the target and continuing for another twenty feet. Khasr heard the hollow sound of wood as it skidded five more along the ground. He just stood there, awed at the sheer distance, and jumped when he heard two laughs from behind him. “Looks like you’d found your weapon,” Daha said, and there was pride in his voice. -End- |