12th of Spring, 513 AV
She pulled, and felt the burn. She released, and felt the sting. She heard the whistle and the thud and smirked her pleasure.
Archery was certainly a fine thing.
Her arms were bare this day, showing off the toned length of her muscles and the way they bunched when she pulled and smoothed when she let fly the arrow notched against the string. The bow sang and the arrow joined in, raising its voice before it was silenced by the wooden target, or the hard stone wall behind it, and the song began again. The burning was a good sensation, one that told Ehati she was doing what she was doing right and wasn't working the wrong muscles in her back and arms. She imagined herself hardening to the pain until it became a dull glowing ember in her mind rather than the sickeningly hot burn.
She was silent but for punctual grunts when she pulled the sinew wrong or had to work a cramp or the snap of the sinew was a little sharper than before. Her breathing was heavy, a result of the workout, and sweat trickled down the side of her face, which was in itself reddened slightly from the exertion. Her only blessing was that she wasn't wearing the plate armour she so often had to when on duty in the city, although she should learn to pull a bow in it. She hated doing so, though. It was so hard to make the heavy plates respond the same way the light armour did.
She was out of arrows after she released the last one and lowered the longbow to dangle at her side, still gripped tightly in her bare hand. She didn't ever wear a glove on the hand that held the curved wood of the longbow, choosing to follow the Inarta she left behind by practicing with either no gloves at all or a glove on her right hand to protect her fingers from the cutting of the string.
She rolled her neck, cracking some of the vertebrae, before she strode forward, picking up her quiver as she did, to go and collect the arrows. She was enjoying watching the others practicing their archery at the same time, unable to help but pause every so often to watch them. She felt safe, although by definition she wasn't, as the arrows could easily fly awry and find their mark in an unarmoured knight.
She pulled, and felt the burn. She released, and felt the sting. She heard the whistle and the thud and smirked her pleasure.
Archery was certainly a fine thing.
Her arms were bare this day, showing off the toned length of her muscles and the way they bunched when she pulled and smoothed when she let fly the arrow notched against the string. The bow sang and the arrow joined in, raising its voice before it was silenced by the wooden target, or the hard stone wall behind it, and the song began again. The burning was a good sensation, one that told Ehati she was doing what she was doing right and wasn't working the wrong muscles in her back and arms. She imagined herself hardening to the pain until it became a dull glowing ember in her mind rather than the sickeningly hot burn.
She was silent but for punctual grunts when she pulled the sinew wrong or had to work a cramp or the snap of the sinew was a little sharper than before. Her breathing was heavy, a result of the workout, and sweat trickled down the side of her face, which was in itself reddened slightly from the exertion. Her only blessing was that she wasn't wearing the plate armour she so often had to when on duty in the city, although she should learn to pull a bow in it. She hated doing so, though. It was so hard to make the heavy plates respond the same way the light armour did.
She was out of arrows after she released the last one and lowered the longbow to dangle at her side, still gripped tightly in her bare hand. She didn't ever wear a glove on the hand that held the curved wood of the longbow, choosing to follow the Inarta she left behind by practicing with either no gloves at all or a glove on her right hand to protect her fingers from the cutting of the string.
She rolled her neck, cracking some of the vertebrae, before she strode forward, picking up her quiver as she did, to go and collect the arrows. She was enjoying watching the others practicing their archery at the same time, unable to help but pause every so often to watch them. She felt safe, although by definition she wasn't, as the arrows could easily fly awry and find their mark in an unarmoured knight.
