As threatening as a kitten (Kovac)

[Rista]

Panting hard to get some much needed air into her lungs, the eyes of the little mongrel locked onto the frame of the dark-haired man where he stood at the range, bow in hand and seemingly consumed by the task of landing the arrow into the target. Relief made her breathe out explosively and with trembling hands she leaned forward, allowing herself just enough time to catch her breath before she continued forward. Her pace was slower now, she made sure not to trip or slip on the wet rock or make any sudden motions that might disturb the few archers that were scattered along the range. With the damp weather there weren't a lot of people around, and Rista was grateful for that. She couldn't say for sure how much trouble she was in, and the lesser amount of Inarta that got to see an eventual scolding, the better it would be.

She stopped once she reached the side of her teacher, wariness keeping her quiet as not to disturb him while he concentrated. As she begun to strap the quiver around her hips, the man spoke; his voice didn't reveal anything of what state of mind he was in, but the matter-of-fact words made her hands flinch and her breath catch from embarrassment. Her face was already flushed from the long run, the tint of shame couldn't be told apart from the rest; only the tension of her shoulders revealed that she was more than aware of her own tardiness. His order was simple, the words unmistakable, but even so the dark-haired girl managed to read both annoyance and impatience into his tone. Whether it was just her own imagination or not.. She herself felt that her late arrival was a bad thing and should have consequences. She deserved to be scolded, at the very least.

"Yes, Avora" she replied quietly and moved forward with the bow slung over her shoulder, her eyes directed towards the ground as she warily passed by the man to do as she was told. Was he mad? Was he indifferent, was his patience wearing thin? His voice was so flat, the face didn't reveal anything. This lack of information on what to expect made the girl nervous, and as she started to pull the arrows from the target she had an itching feeling luring just between the back of the shoulders. It was just a silly thought, but what if he really was pissed off at her? No one could stop him from firing off another arrow. It would take only one, with his skills, and no one would be able to say more than that it was an accident... The girl felt ashamed from her own thinking, it didn't fit with the image she had gotten of Kovac, but none the less the mental picture of him placing an arrow on the string and plying the bow with the arrow aimed towards her wouldn't go away. That's how much she trusted him? Rista felt like sighing. Even she realized that she had trust issues, and this was probably proof enough if anyone had ever doubted. Just assuming that the instructor cared enough about her existence to want to get rid of her for whatever reason, there were still better ways of doing it. He'd had her in his care for an entire day and she was still alive and well, better actually than before, so what was up with this dooms-day thinking? Dying wouldn't solve any of her problems.

The last arrow was pulled from the board, and with the bundle held securely in her arms she turned around and began to head back towards the waiting Avora. Her eyes lingered on his features, quietly studying them to try and guess what he might be thinking about. Rista hated suspense. She'd rather have him cuss or beat her up than act as if nothing had happened, anything was better than this prolonged wait for something to happen. She expected something, some kind of retribution. She had wasted his time, been tardy and made him wait, she hadn't been true to her word of not letting him down.. It was how she felt. It could be read plainly on her face, the features patient and tensed in preparation of facing whatever it was he would throw at her.. Because he would, wouldn't he?

The girl stopped in front of Kovac held out the arrows towards the him, her chin lifted as she tried to meet his gaze. Explanations bubbled up within her and tried to spill over the lips, the full story of how she had forgotten and gone to the wrong range, how she had decided not to fight when some yasi teased her.. She wanted to tell him explain how it all ended up this way, but as Rista looked at the face of the other mongrel she swallowed the desire down, biting her tongue to keep it from moving on its own accord. It wasn't explanations, only excuses. She was late, and that was all there was to it. Nothing more, nothing less...

"I'm sorry, Avora" she allowed herself to say as her hands gave up on the arrows in the grasp, letting them return to their owner. "I made you wait... It won't happen again." There. Enough, no need to say more. The girl pressed her lips together and simply watched, waiting for some kind of reaction. If he wanted more from her it was likely to show at some point, and she'd have to deal with it then. Rista was fully prepared to bow and scrape, even crawl on the ground if necessary; anything to be taught more. Anything, if only he didn't give up on her. That he was still here and spoke to her was a good sign, but she couldn't relax just yet. Nothing was solved, nothing was settled... There was only the suspense.

[Kovac]

Kovac watched the yasi as she hurried down the shooting range to retrieve his practice arrows. There was a satisfied twitch at the corner of his otherwise flatline mouth. She was humbled and contrite, he could here it in the tone of her voice and the dark-eyed glances that darted everywhere but to his green eyes. Good. The avora watched the girl return with the fistful of arrows, still avoiding his glare. She appeared in better health, the black eye and bruises healing. Her unique bronze color had returned as well. As she halted before him, he received the arrows from her. He remained silent, his gaze turning to her pure black eyes. His intent was to make her sweat, to see how long it would take for her to begin with the excuses. These yasi always had excuses. Finally Rista spoke, offering an apology and a promise. No sorry excuses, not lame reasoning to escape the teacher's wrath. Though her eyes were hard to read, the crease of her mouth, the tightness of her lips, the tilt of her head spoke volumes of her submission to his correction. Her response pleased Kovac, who concealed a swelling of pride in the girl. She had simply acknowledged her mistake. In truth, his disapproval was more show than heartfelt. She was fevered when he gave her his instructions two days ago, and it was forgivable that she could may not have comprehended his orders completely. But, if he was going to help her escape the fate of a dek, she had to learn to respect him, and learn her place. He did not want to correct her, the snarky mongrel himself chafed at authority at times. But there was a lesson to reinforce here. Kovac studied the youth, allowing the moments to pass by while she waited for his condemnation to descend. The veteran archer discerned that the muscles that lead from her bared shoulders to her neck were bunched, tense from anticipation. Rista was flushed, her breasts still rising and falling as the labored breathing from her climb began to ease. Visually, Rista was like living art among the throng of light-skinned, ginger-headed inarta around them. coppery skin-tone, developed body-structure, and the fathomless blackness of her gaze. It was a shame most of Wind Reach's denizens did not appreciate her uniqueness. Maybe Kovac felt a little of that lack of appreciation himself. "I have mind to turn you over my knee and smack your arse right here, yasi." He intoned with more sincerity than he felt. The appropriateness of such punishment for one who was so near adulthood in both age and body was questionable. Kovac stifled a scowl at himself. Him, disciplining a yasi, trying to teach her, felt so...contrary. Any other child and he would have easily dismissed or cuffed in the head. This one he had vested time and effort into, and she would be encouraged as much as possible to excel. "But I will not, this time. You will, however, be assigned to to me for a bendi. When it is complete, you may wish I had simply spanked you. Now, stretch and show me what you have retained, if anything, of what I have taught you."

[Rista]

She flinched visibly from his words when Kovac finally began to speak. It had been expected, but even so it was still embarrassing to be scolded like this. The girl was certain that the other archers were listening even though she couldn't see if they actually faced their way, she had that same crawling sensation creeping between the shoulder-blades now as she'd had when she collected the arrows. Rista didn't turn the head to look though, but kept it straight with the eyes fixed on the face of her teacher. Color deepened on her cheeks, the blush apparent for what it was now that her breathing was beginning to slow down; whether it was because of the scolding in itself or the particular choice of punishment the Avora threatened with was difficult to say as the face of the short halfbreed for once didn't reveal anything of what she might be thinking. Upon the mentioning of being assigned to him for bendi, Rista couldn't help the surprised look that crept over the face. Was that really supposed to be a punishment? To actually get to do bendi for a hunter, that seemed more like a reward to her, even if his tone suggested that she would have to work hard. The things she would be able to see, what she might learn... If he hadn't been staring so grimly at her she would have been tempted to grin widely from expectation. She always did have a strange sense of what was fun or not. The attempts at keeping a straight face didn't have to be kept up for long however. The dark-haired girl was glad when she finally was released from the unsettling position in front of Kovacs eyes; he didn't miss much when he looked at someone, did he? There was always this feeling of her being stripped and scrutinized, weighed to see if there was anything worth bothering with; in that way he was way too similar to a certain female Endal she had acquainted at the beginning of summer. Did all higher caste members have access to that stare? Eoin didn't seem to have it, or at the very least he hadn't made use of it. Doing as she was told, the copper-skinned youth began to stretch and warm up her sore muscles. Spinning the arms in wide circles around her, windmilling and flexing the hands until the joints felt warm and supple, she was annoyed to find how weak she still was in the body. The run up from the lower levels had drained a considerable amount of her strength, and after standing still in the damp chill she had quickly begun to stiffen. The welts and bruises of her back and stomach hurt when she moved, but Rista tried to ignore it as much as she could. This wasn't the time to succumb to the fearful unease she felt whenever pain flashed through the mind. This wasn't even the time to dawdle; still somewhat tense she threw a quick glance towards the olive-skinned mongrel man and began to move up towards the target, getting herself in line while tying back the braided hair from her face. The bruised eye didn't need any help in impairing her vision. Pulling the bow down from her shoulder again, Rista tried her best to relax and regain some sense of calm as she donned an arrow to the bow. In an attempt to reclaim some form of dignity or at least composure in front of her annoyed teacher she checked the bowstring to see if it had been affected by the moist air, made sure to thoroughly check the feathers of the arrow she had chosen... In all honesty she was stalling, hoping that a bit of time would make her fingers stop trembling. The cold wasn't exactly helping, nor the fact that she thought herself to be on a slippery slope in regards to Kovac and his patience, and her depth perception still wasn't fully recovered, and there had been so many things to remember from the last lesson, that had happened way too long ago... Her calmness was mostly faked when the girl looked up towards the target. Her hands felt numb as she raised the bow, the mind blank from the effort of trying to remember what Kovac had pointed out to her. Misty spray of water gathered on her skin and chilled it slowly, lending a glossy look to the copper hue of her body. The muscles of her arms, back and shoulders shifted and complained as she pulled the arm back, plying the bow with a feeling of not being entirely present on the range... Fingers slipped over the string, and before she could even remember if she had aimed or not the arrow soared through the air, cutting the mist on it's path until the head buried itself into the target... Low. Ridiculously low, so much that the girl almost let slip a disgusted sound when she saw it. Sure it wasn't a range she was used to being at, sure her eye was bad and her muscles sore, but she was supposed to be better than that. This arrow had almost scraped along the ground before barely attaching to the target. Rista stared at it, feeling a sensation of unease roll through her gut. Not good enough. Without looking at Kovac she pulled another arrow, nocked it to the string and made a second attempt at focusing her straying thoughts. Her fingers slipped over the string of the bow, slightly worried over the damp feeling to waxed, twisted threads as she searched for a better grip, a new position for her fingers... Placing them higher and closer to the arrow she tried again, aiming with her right eye and letting the right shoulder drop down before the string slipped from her fingers, the arrow once more soaring through the air, splitting hazy water drops before it joined its comrade in the target.. Well. At least she wasn't shooting them up in the air or backwards or something. This time the wretched thing placed itself too high, making Rista grit her teeth in increasing irritation over the lack of progress. Not good enough, not good at all. She fired off three more arrows, and felt her desperation grow stronger as none of them managed to get to the inner circles around the bullseye. They were scattered over the board, as if they were trying to make fun of her promise of not wasting Kovac's time again. Was this really her shooting? Rista couldn't remember what it was supposed to feel like when it was all right, her focus was nowhere to be found. Tense about the possibility of Kovac changing his mind about that beating and increasingly stiff from the cold air around her bare skin, it was nearly impossible to relax. The slow, reluctant glance she finally dared to throw her teacher was decidedly subdued, the poor display apparent even to her. "I'm sorry" she mumbled and let the gaze fall towards the ground, unable to meet with those green eyes for very long. This.. wasn't a very good day.

[Kovac]

Kovac held his composure as he scrutinized Rista. As he glowered over her, instilling the appropriate fear and humbleness in the yasi, his true intent was inspecting her physical condition. She had taken quite a beating recently and suffered fever. Her eye appeared to be still healing, the ugly purple bruise that had tainted her lovely face now fading. All this was taken into account before she released her first arrow. Stepping back and giving the girl space, he watched Rista work out sore, stiff muscles. Her recent illness surely had limited her activity, allowing her body to slack in fitness. His dour gaze continued, holding his air of authority and expectation over her. Today was not simply another lesson...it was another test. With folded arms the hunter watched Rista release her volley. The expressions that slipped across the girl's face revealed her own disgust at her performance, and the growing anxiety that she was disappointing him. Where he usually coached her as she worked at the range, he now remained silent. Kovac felt a twinge of guilt for persisting in his ominous demeanor, knowing how it stressed Rista. But again...she was being tested. Firing her final arrow, the dejected yasi finally turned and made a humble apology, dropping her ebony gaze. "I don't have to tell you that your performance was pathetic." He stated flatly, again stepping to stand next to her. A hand ran through his black hair, releasing a spray of droplets, then motioned ambiguously across the crater. "Out there you will not find a nice clean lane. You will not be sheltered from wind or rain. You will not have all the sweet time in the world to take your shot. You will either be fighting to provide food to sustain us, or fighting to defend your own life. There will be stress, fear and anxiety. You will be wet and cold. It is under those conditions that you will need to be able to hit your target." "Your technique is improving." He reached up with his finger and tapped forcefully on her glistening forehead. "This is what failed you today. Fear, pain, distraction defeated you today. Your mind failed you. You must discipline it to focus beyond your pain and anxiety to aim at your purpose as intently as you aim the arrow." Kovac's hand lowered. "Now, I am wet and cold and I have no desire to stand here any longer. Gather your things and lets get to the kitchens for something hot to drink." His hand lifted to rest for a moment on Rista's damp shoulder, an unspoken gesture of forgiveness and encouragement. The yasi had grown on him, and he had found a fondness for the curious black-eyed half-blood. There was still an internal debate over the youth, a struggle to decide whether to champion her fully, or simply give her a few lesson and watch to make sure she does not get in too much trouble. As they headed from the range, Kovac let slip a subdued grin.

[Rista]

Rista listened quietly to the lecture and kept her eyes fixed on the knees of the Avora, refusing to look up. She trembled from the disgusting cold and from the reality of the things Kovac spoke about. She knew all this, or should know it at least. She had thought she knew about the reality of the world she lived in and that she was in tune with it, strong and hardened and completely at home. So why was it that when things became serious, when she suddenly had expectations resting on her shoulders and had to perform, she suddenly started to falter? The girl beat herself quietly for every point her teacher laid out before her, until a sour taste was rising from her gut and made her mouth twist with a feeling she knew only too well. Self-loathing. Ah, it was a dangerous feeling and the little mongrel was usually good at keeping it at bay, but this time it was hard. She really wanted to do well, for some reason she found herself eager to live up to whatever expectations Kovac had for her. To fail so spectacularly, it had to be a skill in and of itself. She was so busy raking herself for the failures that it took some time for the change in the mans demeanor to reach her consciousness. The praising words felt so out of place that she at first didn't register them, and when she did Rista quickly jerked her head up, bottomless eyes widening to stare at the other mongrel - she was met with a finger at the forehead, and felt herself slightly pushed back by the force of it. Or rather because she was too surprised to remember how to brace herself. Was.. Was he really serious? She had expected a slap over the face, a furious yelling, she honestly believed him when he had threatened with laying her over his lap and give her the spanking of a lifetime. Instead she was given a scolding that couldn't be called anything but mild, only to have her faults pointed out as if there was anything left to work with. The way she stared at him was almost comical with the utter disbelief her face displayed. That was it? A swat over the head, a pat on the back and everything was good again? But she had screwed up, and so spectacularly too! Rista all but gaped at the dark-haired hunter when he sent her off to collect her arrows, shocked and almost insulted by how calmly he took it all. No fits of rage, no tantrums or disgusted faces, noting at all that showed how finished he should be with her. The yasi shook her head as she walked towards the targets, the touch on her shoulder lingering like an imprint on her skin so clearly as if he had tattooed his palm print into her flesh. She had no idea what was going on. Thoughts swirled through her head, the girl contemplated the events of the past days as she one by one pulled the arrows out of the cork targets and returned them to the quiver. She had been beaten, then missed a lesson. She had been given a second chance, then missed out on that too because of the fever the beating had caused after weakening her. Kovac had found her then and helped her, and given her yet another chance. Her thoughtlessness had caused her to almost screw up this third chance, first by forgetting the place of practice, then by arriving late, and now by performing poorly and allowing the stress of the situation get the better of her. All in all, with the events summed up like this the result was more than clear to the short girl. She was completely at fault for everything - perhaps aside from getting beaten, but Rista being who she was still felt at fault for not winning that fight even with odds against her - and Kovac had a patience of steel. How would she ever be able to make up for all the time and thought he had put into trying to teach her, that she consequently had waisted? She would have to come up with something, anything... Just letting it continue like this wouldn't do, it just wouldn't. Rista would break herself over the debt she was accumulating, and no doubt the man would start to hate her if she continued to perform so poorly. That, she found to her own surprise, wasn't something she wanted. While her trust in the man had yet to be determined, she didn't dislike him. Quite the opposite actually... It was a subdued but thoughtful expression that dressed the flexible features of the girl as she turned and walked back to the waiting man. Quietly Rista fell in beside Kovac as they began to make their way down the trail, trying to ignore the numbness of her fingers that clutched the bow and the water that soaked her hair, turning the dark strands into a heavy mass that curled around her face. How she hated the damp and the rain. It suited her mood though by effectively putting a lid on any stronger emotions that might have ruined the effect of this lesson. She wasn't angry at him for anything, only at herself. For once, Rista wasn't going to let it go out over anyone else either. Her gaze lifted from the slippery path once they came down to the flatter surface outside the Gate and brushed over the frame of the man beside her. It was strange to think that she still didn't know anything about him. So many of her hopes and fears had been pinned to him and his thoughts of her, and yet his face was still unfamiliar. She couldn't say what went on behind those glass-green eyes of his, she had no way of telling what it was that caused his interest in her or the almost persistent patience he had with her failures. His appearance still made her jump as well, being so used to seeing only red hair and pale skin wherever she turned her eyes that his dark hair that was so similar to her own made the girl flinch, expecting to see the unfamiliar features of a foreigner when she spotted him. The darkness of his skin too, it made her want to hold out her arm against his to compare the shades even though she could see already that they were different; hers being a coppery ocher while his looked more like olives. Black eyes lingered on the man as they walked, silently regarding the faint smile on his lips and wondering what it was about. To her it hadn't been a very good day and she saw no reason to smile, it was a day to frown on and delve at troublesome matters. Though... for some reason the girl felt her spirits lift a little as she looked up at Kovac and struggled to keep up with his pace. If he could smile at a day like this, maybe he wasn't entirely bad? She would have to think this over, take her time and thoroughly decide whether she trusted him or not. In the meantime, perhaps it didn't hurt to rely on him just a little, at least like him and listen to the advice he had given. Time would tell what might happen, as it usually did. The thought almost brought a smile to her own lips and it was with a strange feeling of lightness over her shoulders that she darted long by the side of the man. She'd better keep up, he wasn't going to get a chance to forget about that hot drink the had offered.

[Indigo]

Character: Rista Skills: +3 Weapon (Shortbow,) Lore: Stubborn Independence, Learning Chaktawe, Self flagellation, Character: Kovac Skills: +1 Compassion, +1 Leadership, +3 Weapon (Shortbow,) +1 Teaching, Lore: Notes: It's a shame the thread had to be cut short because it had potential. If you have any questions or comments about your grade, please don't hesitate to PM me.