It had been a few minutes so far, and Akiva was already bored. She sighed and picked up the bow and quiver she had placed beside her, putting the quiver over her head and shoulder. She headed toward the targets, stopping about seven meters away from one of them. She looked around, seeing nobody in sight. She didn't really expect to, of course, she was out in the woods where not many people were likely to be, except for other archers. The trees made a distinct line just behind the row of targets, which stood on wooden frames made of probably solid wood and some sort of cloth covering for the main part of the target. She raised the bow in an awkward manner, doing as she thought she remembered some of the archers she had seen on her journeys do, holding the bow with her left hand and the string with her right. She raised an arrow to the bow, holding the feathered shaft to the string as any beginner might do. She pulled on the string a little, testing it. She frowned, the arrow slid toward the ground, making a semi circle in her fingers.
She wished her new mentor would arrive soon, she was clueless as to how to do this, but attempted it again anyway. She raised the arrow again, placing the head on the bow. Realizing that holding the shaft to the string wouldn't do anything but keep the shaft wherever her hand went, she placed the end of the shaft on the string, pinching it between her thumb and index finger. She drew the string back as far as she could and aimed it at the target. She released the string and the arrow flew forward...only to land about a meter in front of her.
Akiva sighed and went to retrieve the arrow. She placed it the same way she had it before and aimed a little bit higher. She drew the string back again, finding that if she pulled harder, the bow bent more. She guessed this would probably make the arrow fly faster or further, but she wasn't sure. She let the arrow go, and it flew off. This time, it landed about two meters away. She was definitely getting there, or so she thought. She went to pick the arrow up again. Maybe I'm not holding it right, she thought, and tried reversing the roles of her hands. She couldn't pull the string back very far at all. Well that can't be it, she thought, and switched them again. Maybe if I stand up straighter or something, she thought. She had always noticed the funny way those archer men stood when they were shooting their bow. She had always thought they were quite queer looking.
So she stood up straighter, imitating the upright style of those she had seen before. She placed the arrow to the bow and pulled back on the string again. This time she noticed she could pull it back further, and didn't feel quite as much tension on her shoulder as she had before. I think I'm getting it... she thought, now concentrated on her task. She pulled back further than she had before, happy that she was figuring it out. Then the arrow slipped out of her fingers. She frowned, unsure of what she was doing wrong. This was getting to be a bit more frustrating than she had first thought it would be. And though it flew most of the way to the target, she was still unsatisfied.
She went to get the arrow again, grumbling to herself on her way back to her spot. She tried the same thing she had, only adjusting her grip on the arrow. She decided that instead of using her thumb and index finger to grip the arrow, she would place it between her index finger and middle finger and hold it with all three. Trying this, she pulled the string back, straightened up, and let the arrow go. It flew forwards, hitting a tree behind her target, but not embedding itself in the wood. Instead, it bounced off and landed on the ground. Damnit... Oh well, at least I got closer, she thought, sad that she had missed, and not had the strength to get the arrow stuck in the wood, but happy that she was making progress. She retrieved her arrow one last time and returned to her place under the tree where she sat again, waiting for her mentor to show up, if he would.
Just as she had finished her little 'self-training' session, a hooded man approached where she was. He removed his hood, asking what they should start with.
Glad that she finally had the help she had been waiting for, she jumped up and walked over. "Well you can tell me what I'm doing wrong," she said, raising her bow and arrow again to show him what she had figured out, or thought she had. |