In need of an Arrow [Vanator]

[Emizal Silverden]

52nd evening of Summer, 511 A.V. Black, beady eyes stared back at Emizal, smiling with it's remaining buttons for it's mouth. The rag doll kept tormenting her, harrasing her ever since she came home. But yet none the less she couldn't bring herself throw it out. The doll kept bringing a bitterness, pain, a sour taste, to Emizal, and no matter how many times she told her self that it was just a toy, it still hurt. To Emizal it was the last thing left behind that reminded her of her father. Emizal brought the long bow up with her right hand, in the other, she held an wooden arrow. Knotching the arrow to the bow's string, she let out the ragged breath she was holding. Closing her eyes she relived one more memory: Young Emizal ran through the grasses of Endrykas, cletching to a fresh rag doll her father gave her. She was chasing her father, trying to catch up, he was leaving for a hunt. Emizal was begging him to take her. She wanted to impress him, and be like her brothers. But he never turned around.. opening her eyes she glared at the rag doll. Emi pulled the string back, along with the arrow, the bow made a protesting hiss. The arrow vibrated with the friction of the woods meeting. She took aim for the rag dolls heart and let the arrow fly. Plank! A miss. The arrow clung to the target's board where she hung the rag doll. Emizal loward her bow and let out a sad sigh. Looking at the doll, "Don't give me that look...I hate that look." she spoke to the unblinking rag doll.

[Vanator]

"I agree, there is a rather accusatory look on that dolls face, but after all...you have strapped her to an archery target and are shooting at her." A familiar voice piped in behind Emizal. Vanator patted the girl on the back and moved to stand beside her. He clutched a brand new composite shortbow, a recurve crafted out of laminated zibri horn. A quiver of arrows dangled over his shoulder. Then he gave the drykas girl a broad grin. He enjoyed goading his friend Emi, though she rarely gave him the satisfaction of a smile, instead offering him her infamous unamused face. Usually, that only encouraged him. The two had become friends shortly after Van, Kashik and Khiara had returned to Endrykas last year. The same age as his wives, Emi seemed to get along with both women, and was a natural choice to watch over his and Kashik's son when necessary. There had been whispers and jokes about Emi's frequent visits the the Denusks, that Van was courting another beautiful young woman to be his wife. But the Ankal's son put a stop to such gossip. She was indeed desirable, and there was no doubt that Emizal would make a fine wife, the very image of a strong drykas woman, but the older drykas man was quite happy with the wives he had. Besides, Emi had proven to be a good friend to him, a confidant who could see things from his wive's perspective, a counselor of sorts outside the binds of family. So, finding his friend firing missiles at a child's toy, Vanator sensed something was on Emi's mind, and much as she would do had she found him so, the man stuck around to offer his companionship. "Mind if I test out my new purchase?" He slipped an arrow from the quiver, nocked it to his new bow and pulled back the string. It took quite a bit more strength to bend this sort of bow, and his muscles bulged as he got a feel for the weapon. With careful aim, Vanator released the string and watched as the arrow thudded into the plank, just under the doll's armpit. He turned to Emi, still grinning. "What did that doll ever do to you anyway?"