Tel'Mar was concentrating to hard again. The thick piece of wood he'd rigged together that lay against the wall was all he could see in his tunneled vision state. He held his bow out in his left hand, two arrows grasped parallel to the bows wood. His other hand rested on the undrawn string, two arrows held between his thumb and his palm. As he breathed out he flicked one of the forward arrows around, grabbing the rear with his fingers, drawing the bow back while notching the arrow, and releasing it. As the arrow left the bow, he flicked up one of the arrows in his draw hand, its shaft slapping against the bow, he again drew and notched in a single smooth motion, releasing the second arrow in less time than a blink of an eye. However, when he attempted to flick the third arrow from his bow hand, it went to far down. He missed grabbing it, and it fell to the ground.
"Shyke." He let the word escape as a breath more than a word.
He set the bow down on the table next to him, looking at the two arrows sticking out of the board. The heads were buried deep, barely a fingers length apart. The third arrow still lay on the ground, the fourth on the table with the bow. He'd been trying to master this skill all night.
Tel'Mar stood inside the house of his new friend Fen. After a rather interesting evening where he, Fen, and a Inarta woman had a scuffle they had retreated here. The woman had a fit and Tel felt she could use his help. Now she lay on the bed asleep, while Fen had gone to get breakfast. He'd slept by her side in his wolf form, comforting her.
Tel'Mar had barely slept at all. He kept replaying the events of the evening over and over in his mind. He'd missed his target, and a woman, an innocent, took his arrow instead. He'd neglected his surroundings again. He'd concentrated on his target, his prey becoming a deer, and the crowd trees. He was still acting like he was out in the wild, firing arrows carelessly at prey that didn't even know he was there. Now he'd wasted innocent blood because of his inability to adapt his skills to his surroundings. The sound of his arrow striking and her screams now plagued his ears. His hands gripped the side of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white and his skin threatened to break.