Open Fear & Determination

[Nakiru]

40th day of Summer, 513 AV.

Location: Second Quiver.

Time of day: Between 13th and 14th Bell.

Nakiru offered the swaying target a disapproving gesture. He had to do better if he was going to keep his position as a Hunter. Once he'd finished his set, he took a glance to his right to observe his company. One other Avora practiced with him in this section, having taken up position to the far right by the guard wall. His mind flashed back to his last hunt, and the arrow that should have resulted in a kill, but didn't. He shook from his momentary daydream when he saw the other Avora taking off to collect her spent set of arrows. Doing the same himself, he balanced his bow against the nearby rock, then took a brisk jog to the target. Careful not to break the shaft as he wiggled them loose. Stealing a glance at the final arrow as he pried it free, as if daring it to avoid the bullseye again.

The target, consisting of a wooden disk marked in mildly colored rings until reaching a center bullseye, seemed to mock him. "What am I doing wrong.." he wondered, observing the scarification on the disk. Only a few scars were present where the bullseye was colored in. Many more marks littered the outer rings in varying degrees. He caught the other Avora in his peripheral vision, already retreating back to her firing position.
Careful not to dawdle, he took one last look at the target before returning to the firing line.

Nakiru's mind was thick with thoughts of his last hunt. Of the critical miss that was still haunting him. He'd caused the Endal he rode with to return with no food that day. It was an embarrassment that was not lost on him, and definitely not on the Endal and his peers.

His brow slowly furrowed in defiance to the fear that plagued him. So much was at stake. Some of his earliest memories were of the Wind Eagles, of the sky. Always he had been fascinated by both, he feared what another miss could mean for him. He took a deep breath, inhaling slowly. He imagined being told he was worthless, that he wasn't meant to be a hunter, that he should leave such duties to those worthy of the honor. He felt the heat of his emotion pour over him. None of it mattered, none of it. He would not miss again! Turning in a quick, fluid motion he brought the bow to bare and strung the arrow in his other hand. Pulling the bow taught and lining the arrow up with his golden yellow eye. Taking only a moment to set his aim, he visualized the arrow slamming home in the dead center of the disk, then released the shot.

[Simpriana Whiterose]

Simpriana hummed to herself quietly as she walked down the beaten path to the Second Quiver. Her long blonde hair tied back with a pale blue ribbon that matched her simple dress, she smiled faintly. Today was a lovely day. This morning she had been in the enclave, practicing Nari by reading simple books while blushing when the children asked her to read. Simpriana had tried to but she wasn't very good at reading Nari yet. She did, however, read to them in Common, which brought awe to the little children's faces. After piling books back onto their shelves and finishing off the book about the Wind Eagles that she had been reading, Simp decided to go out to the archery range to write in her journal. Looking around, the smell of sand welcoming her, Simpriana saw only two people in the range today. One was a girl with cascading hair and a keen shot, the other a boy with striking eyes who looked frustrated. Simpriana recognized him vaguely but couldn't place a name. Finding a comfortable spot on the ground where some sand weeds grew, Simpriana took a seat, sighing. She folded open her journal, the familiar crackle of its pages inviting her in. Pulling out her quill and ink, her blue eyes wide with wonder, she started to write. This time Simpriana had decided to try writing in Nari to practice what she had learned. Furrowing her brow, she became frustrated when she couldn't remember some of the words that she had read and heard many times before. She looked up when the twang of the arrows being shot from their bows stopped. The two archers had gone to collect their arrows. Simpriana smiled softly. Oh how she wished that she could learn something like that! She was never very good at it though so she was content with sticking to writing. When she heard shots ring out again, her head snapped back up to see that the boy had shot a near-perfect bullseye. "That is very good," she called out to him in Common, hoping that he understood her.

[Nakiru]

Nakiru's whole body held a steady tension as he committed to the shot. The bow string settling to it's routine tautness with an angry, lingering thrum. Opening both of his eyes to better bare witness to the result. His lungs froze for an instant as he watched the arrow drill home in the near dead center of the bullseye. Exhaling slowly he afforded himself a moment to relish in self victory, he demanded excellence of himself and got it.

That was when he heard a voice call out in praise, though it was in the common tongue. Nakiru could speak the language of the worldly people, but it was definitely not his first choice. This subtle, yet also monumental difference caused him to delay just slightly in his displayed reaction. Lowering the longbow he turned to regard the woman, squinting only barely as he found her. Allowing his eyes ample time for scrutiny before relocating them down range. He stood now perpendicular to her, still looking at the bullseye, "Yes.." he said loud enough for her to hear him despite the direction of his voice. He returned his gaze to her as he notched another arrow, his mind having to search for the words he wished to use, if only for a moment, before he shouted, "Thank you.." in highly accented common.

Returning his attention to the range, he caught his fellow Avora in his periphery. She was already two arrows ahead of him, and about to make that three. Both of them were going with ten arrow sets, had been all day. He knew it was bad etiquette to make a fellow practitioner wait due to poor focus. His eyes darted from his own nine remaining arrows, then to the range before him, and settled on the animal shaped target he'd dodged aiming at thus far.

A decision was made, he tried to tell himself as he affirmed his stance and drew the bow tight it had nothing to do with showing off. Shifting all his focus to his task, he concentrated, took a shallow breath, held it, then proceeded to cycle through shots in rapid succession. His arrows displayed before him he had no trouble moving from one to the next. The animal target was bigger, but had dead zones that would not result in a kill if made on live prey.

He gave the result of each shot no attention as he focused solely on each following attempt. Snatching the tenth and final arrow he followed the same doctrine he had with the last eight as he released it towards the target. The arrow sliced angrily through the air, still at nearly maximum velocity as it struck home.

[Iosha]

Coming off a long stretch of back to back weeks of working in the Infirmary, Iosha needed a place to unwind and relieve her stress, so when she walked into the Second Quiver, the konti was relieved at the atmosphere of the Avora shooting ranges compared to the Fletchers' Corner. For starters, the Second Quiver didn't have the crowds of roaming yasi taking up the archery stalls, Iosha found them to be quite distracting, and she often had to go out into the common of range and deal with red headed brats personally. The konti wasn't loud or violent when dealing with children, but she perfected the lecture and look-of-death as a common disciplinary measure when she dealt with the yasi. In the end, the yasi learned to stay away from the konti when she was practicing alone at the Fletchers' Corner. On the other hand, the Second Quiver was quite orderly and quiet place where the Avora seem engaged in polite conversation with the one an another while they worked on their archery skill. Since it was only thirtieth bell in Wind Reach, most of the stalls were empty because the Avora were most likely working at the moment. Iosha went to the nearest stall and set down her backpack behind her. She reached into her back pack and pulled out a white ribbon and tired back her hair into a long pony tail. When she was finished, she picked up her short bow and moved to the firing line.

When Iosha made it to the firing line, she turned her head to look at the target. It was the typical round target with the bulls-eye in the center. Holding the bow in her left hand, she quickly moved into her archery stance with her left forward and her left foot behind him. She bent her leg slightly, so she wasn't not to stiff in the legs. Iosha retrieved a hunting arrow from her quiver, placed it on the bow sting, and slowly lifted the tip of the arrow till it reached the center of the target. The konti pull back the bow string to her cheek and held it their until she was able to correct her aim slightly. Feeling the muscles in her shooting arm starting to burn, Iosha took a shallow breath and released her arrow on the exhale. The violet feather whistled through the air towards the target, but Iosha misjudged her aim slightly, so the arrow veered up and sailed over the target hitting the hay and feathered wall behind it. Iosha shook her head at the bad shot and said with a smile, “If I was aiming for the hay wall, it would have been a great shot!” She giggled for a moment and reached for another arrow for the next shot.

[Simpriana Whiterose]

Simpriana breathed a sigh of relief when he replied to her in the common tongue, though she could tell that it wasn't his native language. Smiling, she narrowed her eyes, watching as he took aim and shot at the animal shaped target, fluidly shooting and reloading quick enough to catch up with the amount of arrows shot by the female archer. Nodding to herself, Simpriana turned her gaze back to the brown leather-bound journal that sat in her lap, reminding herself of why she was here. To write. Not to sit here and watch some boy shoot arrows at a hunk of wood repeatedly. Simpriana laughed at the thought as she retrieved her quill from the pale sand where she had set it. She flipped through her journal, admiring all of the past knowledge she had scrawled within its pages. Everything from Syliras law to the giant animals in the forests of Taldera to the Endal right here in Wind Reach. Pressing her lips together to form a thin line, Simp thought hard. What could she write about next? After moments of deliberation, she just couldn't think of anything worth documenting. Sighing, she looked back up to the archer who had by now gone to retrieve his arrows again as she heard footsteps entering the archery range. Simp saw a girl with pale hair take the spot nearest the entrance and she nodded to her in acknowledgement. Monents later the girl had shot into a hay bale and was giggling to herself. Rolling her eyes, Simpriana looked back to the male archer and watched him carefully. How he moved. How his posture showed his frustration. But what was he frustrated with? Simp didn't dare ask. She knew better than to ask complete strangers about their problems. It usually turned out badly. Instead she simply watched him, her icy blue eyes curious as he finished collecting his arrows.

[Nakiru]

While exploiting the opportunity to impress a foreigner was entertaining enough, it held second place to his interest in the result of his set. Holstering the bow by hanging it across himself he ran in to collect his arrows along with the other Avora. As he approached then target, he saw in detail the placement of his shots. A couple would have indeed been killing blows, a few critically injuring enough to simply track the prey the rest of the way. However a few were for all intents and purposes, a failure. He dared a glance to his right as he freed one such failure from the buttock portion of the animal target. The other Avora was shaking her head at him ever so slightly, then offered a quip, "Nice shot, Nakiru..." the sarcasm in her tone was quite evident.

Nakiru shrugged, holding just the crack of a smile at the corner of his lips. A look he often wore. It was then he noticed his sarcastic company had missed her target once entirely, and had yet to pull the stray arrow loose. "What about that little guy?" He smiled a bit wider, allowing his own retort to breed satisfaction inside him. She immediately moved and jerked it from the hay backdrop, giving him a quick, and decidedly meaningful hand gesture. He let it go with a chortling grin, and returned to removing the rest of his arrows.

It wasn't until he'd made it back to the firing line, that he noticed the newcomer. Another foreigner, unusual, though interesting. Nakiru enjoyed foreigners, though he would never dream of leaving Wind Reach like they had their homes. Perhaps that's exactly why he was as entertained with them as he was. They were different, whether they tried to show it or not.

The social part of him reared it's head, and he decided to obey. Figuring it time for a quick break from practice anyway. His arrows secured at his hip in a leather quiver, and his bow still hung across his middle. He gazed freely at her as he approached. "Attractive.." he thought to himself as he neared her. She had a very soft, comely look about her.

His attention was split however, also stealing a number of glances towards the new visitor. She was striking, quite beautiful, and was passing him to approach the firing line herself. Had she a warrior's spirit? He was soon to find out.

"Hello, what is your name?" He managed in common as he took a knee near Simpriana. Hearing just then the giggling of a woman behind him, he turned mid introduction to see a decisively missed shot still reverberating in the hay bail. "Perhaps not..." he chided to himself under his breath before turning his vision back to the one he knelt beside.

[Simpriana Whiterose]

Simpriana watched as the male archer finished retrieving his arrows, her blue eyes fixated on him as she pulled the pale ribbon from her hair to allow it to fall to her shoulders. She played absentmindedly with the corner of her worn out journal, feeling the need to be moving in some way. She had the same problem as her mother. She had to always be doing something with her hands. Her thoughts on her mother, Simpriana faded into reverie, remembering her mother's sweet, calm voice. Her long, white-blonde hair. Her silvery eyes that - though they were always tired - still showed how much she cared about everyone around her. How hard she worked at home. Then there was the day. The day that Simpriana lost everyone who she held dear. The day that the mage had attacked her fam- Simpriana shook her head, returning to the real world. That meant refocusing on what was happening in front of her. The archer had turned to face her. Quickly realizing that she had been staring, Simpriana looked down at her journal, closing it. He knelt in front of her and she looked up at him from underneath of her curtain of long, blonde hair. Looking him up and down, she admired his fiery hair. It reminded her of her writing. She'd written about the Inarta hair before and she'd even done a sketch. Not a very good one, mind you, but a sketch nonetheless. And his eyes; this Inarta's eyes were strikingly bold. A yellowy gold colour that was piercing. She smiled faintly at his accent as he asked her what her name was. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she took in a deep breath before replying with, "I'm Simpriana. And you are?" Looking back down, avoiding his eyes, she flipped her journal over to have its back facing up. She ran her hand gently over the intricate designs that had been carved into the leather of the journal's cover. ((OOC Note: I apologize for the shortness of this post. I'm wrung dry of creativity at the moment o.o))

[Iosha]

Out of the corner of her eye, Iosha's violet eyes caught a young male with golden eyes watching her for a moment, but it was short lived because his eyes were on someone else in the range. Placing the arrow on her bowstring, the konti turned her head to look at the target. She repeated the motions of the first shot before she aligned the tip of the arrow up with the center of the target. Iosha knew if she was ever going to hunt in the Unforgiving, she would have to be able to hit a moving target. The konti pulled back the bow string to her cheek and decided to hold the arrow in the firing position for a chime even if the muscles in her right arm and shoulder were starting to burn. Iosha started to feel tunnel vision as she held the arrow ready to shoot, but she started to think of the single flame in the complete darkness of her soul. The konti started feeding into the small fire all her fears and distractions. When her mind was clear, Iosha adjust his shoot and release the arrow at the target. Stilling in her shooting stance, Iosha watched the arrow whistle towards the target and hit the first ring from the bulls-eye. It was a best shot the konti had in month, so in her excitement, the konti did a slight victory dance all by herself in the stall.

Feeling tightness in her shoulders, Iosha decided to stretch out her arms and shoulders before the next shot. While she was stretching. she smirked to herself when she saw the male Inarta archer kneeling down next to the human, and both of them seemed to be lost in quiet conversation together. She knew from experience with Inarta that they had a tendency be weary of foreigners, but they had no problem getting to know foreigners in a more intimate setting though. Iosha turned her attention to the other Avora archer, and she could tell the women was good at archery because most of her arrow were in the target. The Avora woman looked at her a moment, gave her a slight nod, and a bright smile. Iosha gave her a smirk before she turned her attention back to the target. Iosha lifted her bow, so the tip of arrow was aligned with the target. She pulled back the bow string to her cheek and released the arrow on the exhale. Iosha watched the arrow soar hit the target with a loud thud!. Iosha frowned when the arrow hit the outer ring of the target. It wasn't the great shot, but she couldn't complain about hitting the target twice in a row. She glanced at the Avora woman and saw she was gone.

[Arandolya]

It was the early afternoon hours such as these that Arandolya drifted towards the archery range on her days off, ever keen on practicing and improving her shot. She hadn't hunted enough last season to qualify for the pay, and her pocket definitely felt the squeeze. She wouldn't, and couldn't, let that happen again. The Inarta woman walked with a light bounce in her step, bow in one hand, and arrows on her hip.

Many wore their quiver on their back, and reached back as they raised their bow. Arandolya had never been trained that way, and became so used to brushing her hip to absently count her arrows that whenever some hunter tried to instill their style on her it ended up with a failed hunt as she never got in a second shot. Sometimes she missed the first as she fumbled to get out an arrow. It was times like those Arandolya chose to dwell on too much, instead thinking of successful shots she did make.

The Second Quiver felt almost like a second home, as she spent her time neatly divided between it and hunting out in Thunder Bay during the summer. There was almost always an Endal willing to fly down some Avora, as now was the time to replenish stocks and enable the city to thrive for the Winter that would come. Perhaps it felt like it never would in the heat of these days, but it would, faster than they all expected.

Entering the archery range, Arandolya noticed there were very few - as was expected since it was a lovely day, and many Avora would be working. Those she did though brought a small smile. One was a familiar Konti, diligently working to improve her archery as she shot ... ah, well she wasn't the worst. Another seemed to be a male, kneeling at the side of a woman who had no bow to be seen. She did have a book though. She was ... writing? In the Second Quiver? Her blond hair definitely stood out, and Arandolya couldn't help but wonder if the woman was even allowed to be in the Second Quiver ... Nevermind, she thought idly, golden gaze turning away.

The arrow Iosha shot thudded into the target, though fairly off, did hit it, which was something of an improvement. Arandolya smiled at the woman, waiting until she had lowered her bow to speak. "You, ah, improved, Iosha," the hunter said in her chirped Common, setting her things down behind the firing line in front of the target beside Iosha. Stringing her bow, Arandolya couldn't help but glance absently at the blond settled away from the archers, curious in the blunt way Inarta always were.

Once her bow was strung, Arandolya took out an arrow, glancing it over briefly to ensure it wasn't splintered. Though the woman often shot quickly in practice to hone her skill of marking a target in time with a reaction, Arandolya decided to take it a bit slower, as the lanes were empty, and the environment relaxed. Drawing back the bowstring to anchor point, Arandolya raised it simultaneously, shutting one sharp golden orb as she pinpointed the target down the lane. Her feet moved into position, body angling to a more streamlined figure, feeling the weight settle in her back and shoulders. A slight adjustment in the aim, and the conscious sway slightly to the left to counter her subconscious waver to the right. Slightly up to take into account the drop of the arrow as it moved ... Arandolya breathed out, releasing the arrow as she did so. Opening her shut eye, Arandolya pursed her lips slightly, watching it hit ever-so-slightly left of the bull's eye. Making a noise mixed between displeased and pleased, Arandolya waited to ensure any other archer's took their shots before retrieving her arrow.

She didn't shoot again yet though, looking towards the pair that were crouched off to the side. It wasn't the woman that held her interest this time though. "You use a longbow?" Arandolya asked, reverting to Nari to speak to a fellow hunter, curious as to his choice of the much taller bow. She couldn't help but admire the strength that went into using such a large bow, as she only had to worry of the draw-weight of her composite shortbow. Though it had a punch to kill an animal if shot right, a long bow was something quite different. She was surprised he could even hunt with it, in all honesty. "Can I see your shot?"

Note: "Nari" or "Common"

[Nakiru]

His vision once again, on Simpriana, he noticed her demeanor. She was nervous, or so it would seem. Hearing her own introduction, he nodded in acknowledgement. He couldn't help but notice how she had a hard time keeping her eyes on him. Her hands tracing the intricacies of her book's cover in a mindless, habit formed sort of way. His smile grew, the same way a hunter's did when he knew he was about to make a killing shot.

The unmistakable thud of an arrow making high velocity contact with a target rang out. Followed immediately by noises of a happy, dancing woman. It drew his attention. The one who had so utterly missed a target a moment ago, now landed a near bullseye. His eyes widened ever so slightly at witnessing the result of her shot. Though he thought it purely a matter of luck based on her reaction, he found himself smiling and feeling happy for the stranger regardless.

It was then his eyes were drawn from her by the movements of another. He redirected his gaze towards the woman just entering the range. She was not like either of the other two that now remained. She was an Avora, like himself. A fellow hunter. He had seen her around before, he was sure of it. Though never had the two interacted, at least, not that he could recall. His eyes darted about her, studying her with a hunter's focus. It was his nature.

He saw her glance in his direction, making no effort to avert his gaze. He had never been shy. He looked at who and what he wanted to, when he wanted to. It was that simple. A common boldness among his kind. Her muscles were toned, and practiced. He could tell, even from the current distance between them, that she knew how to use the short bow she carried. She couldn't have been a hunter otherwise after all. He saw she maintained her quiver at her hip like he did. It was an uncommon practice, but he preferred it, as must she.

Not long after returning his attention to the one he knelt beside, a curiosity took verbal form and made it's way to him. He allowed it's interruption, and turned to regard the questioner. He nodded slowly, deliberately, confirming her suspicion. Once the second inquiry graced his ears, he found himself eager to comply. "Of course," he said, then stood, looking back to Simpriana. "Do you shoot?" it was only after that he realized he spoke the words in Nari. With a quick shake of his head, he repeated his question in common, "Do you shoot?" almost as an after thought he continued with, "If you... " Struggling just for a moment with the words, "If you are with me.. you can shoot.." he managed. As he awaited Simpriana's decision, he removed the longbow holstered across his torso. Displaying his intent.