||19th Fall, 512AV || The sickle and Arrow ||
The air was cool and still, with a great fat white moon hanging in the sky. Snaeha took a moment to appreciate the whisperings of a breeze she felt on her ashen skin before pushing onto business. Ahead of her stalked Dorav, her aspirational elder brother who was as pushy as he was sullen.
”Come on, Snaeha. Why are you being so slow?” He barked, glancing to her long enough for Snaeha to begrudgingly quicken her pace.
They soon came to their destination: the tired looking grey building where their people came to train. Quickly as they arrived, Dorav stormed off to practise his own weaponry, leaving Snaeha to pout and find something to entertain herself in the meantime.
Fortunately, she did not have to wait long.
”Anything I can help you with?” The young man who spoke to her was not one of the trainers Snaeha had seen before, though that was far from a bad thing. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and cheekbones that she was almost jealous of.
And best of all, in his hands was a short bow.
"I was hoping to practise my archery,” she said soothingly, a coy smile on her lips.
”Well, you came to the right place,” her new acquaintance waved a pale hand towards the skins pinned up on the wall. Trophies, Snaeha knew, and pretty impressive if she were to be truly honest.
She shrugged off her shortbow and held it in her hands, with a mischievous look in her eyes. "This isn’t my first time,” she said pointedly, shifting herself to the left of the room. He would follow, she knew.
They always followed.
She set about her training, catching out of the corning of her eye the young male moseying towards her: oh, how predictable. But she pretended not to see, or care, and instead thoroughly investigated her bowstring. She had bought six arrows with her; delicate ones made out of skinny twigs her father had made the previous day.
When her arrow was notched, Snaeha twisted herself perpendicular to the bull’s-eye target, her feet angled so they pointed ahead of her. When she pulled the bowstring back, she lowered her head a little to look straight down the shaft of the arrow, training it onto the yellow centre of her target. 1… 2… 3…
She released the arrow, straightening herself as she did and --
-- her arrow completely missed, veering off target and thudding against the wall behind it.
Shyke.
”You moved.” Snaeha spun around to stare at her admirer incredulously, irked by his sudden criticism. Who did he think he was? ”You should stay completely still until your arrow has hit the target. If you move, you’ll send the arrow off in another direction.”
Snaeha bristled with annoyance, but as she dipped down and selected another arrow, she tried her best to speak light-heartedly, ”I did not realise you were a trainer.” Who was he to criticise her technique, anyway?
He smiled tightly and shrugged his narrow shoulders, ”I’m not. But I can hit a target a damn sight better than you.”
Snaeha frowned, her jaw dropping an inch or so in pure shock. Nobody ever spoke so bluntly to her, not even her damn brothers! ”It was my first shot.” She muttered sullenly, folding her arms and giving the young man a challenging look.
Her apparent ‘trainer’ was not amused. ”And if you had been hunting, you would have missed your target and sent it running off.” He gave her one more disapproving look before nodding towards her bow and saying, ”try again.”
If there was one thing Snaeha detested, it was losing face; especially to some cocky guy who thought he was ten times the archer she was. She would not let this fellow think he had outsmarted her as well as be a better archer than her. So she obliged, albeit resentfully. This time when she notched her arrow she made sure her positioning could not flawed: back straight, feet angled slightly towards the target…
…almost falling over when her poker-faced not-a-trainer gently tapped her foot, scowling as he did so, ”Feet pointed dead ahead, not at an angle. That’s better.”
She would have glared at him and told this stranger just where to stick his helpful tips, but as she altered her stance to incorporate his orders, even Snaeha had to admit she felt damn sight more comfortable with her feet not angled. She grunted her thanks before trying once again.
This time, the arrow landed a damn sight closer to the bull’s-eye than her previous attempt. Snaeha merely shrugged, trying her upmost to hide her joy and sudden need to cheer.
”Come on, Snaeha. Why are you being so slow?” He barked, glancing to her long enough for Snaeha to begrudgingly quicken her pace.
They soon came to their destination: the tired looking grey building where their people came to train. Quickly as they arrived, Dorav stormed off to practise his own weaponry, leaving Snaeha to pout and find something to entertain herself in the meantime.
Fortunately, she did not have to wait long.
”Anything I can help you with?” The young man who spoke to her was not one of the trainers Snaeha had seen before, though that was far from a bad thing. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and cheekbones that she was almost jealous of.
And best of all, in his hands was a short bow.
"I was hoping to practise my archery,” she said soothingly, a coy smile on her lips.
”Well, you came to the right place,” her new acquaintance waved a pale hand towards the skins pinned up on the wall. Trophies, Snaeha knew, and pretty impressive if she were to be truly honest.
She shrugged off her shortbow and held it in her hands, with a mischievous look in her eyes. "This isn’t my first time,” she said pointedly, shifting herself to the left of the room. He would follow, she knew.
They always followed.
She set about her training, catching out of the corning of her eye the young male moseying towards her: oh, how predictable. But she pretended not to see, or care, and instead thoroughly investigated her bowstring. She had bought six arrows with her; delicate ones made out of skinny twigs her father had made the previous day.
When her arrow was notched, Snaeha twisted herself perpendicular to the bull’s-eye target, her feet angled so they pointed ahead of her. When she pulled the bowstring back, she lowered her head a little to look straight down the shaft of the arrow, training it onto the yellow centre of her target. 1… 2… 3…
She released the arrow, straightening herself as she did and --
-- her arrow completely missed, veering off target and thudding against the wall behind it.
Shyke.
”You moved.” Snaeha spun around to stare at her admirer incredulously, irked by his sudden criticism. Who did he think he was? ”You should stay completely still until your arrow has hit the target. If you move, you’ll send the arrow off in another direction.”
Snaeha bristled with annoyance, but as she dipped down and selected another arrow, she tried her best to speak light-heartedly, ”I did not realise you were a trainer.” Who was he to criticise her technique, anyway?
He smiled tightly and shrugged his narrow shoulders, ”I’m not. But I can hit a target a damn sight better than you.”
Snaeha frowned, her jaw dropping an inch or so in pure shock. Nobody ever spoke so bluntly to her, not even her damn brothers! ”It was my first shot.” She muttered sullenly, folding her arms and giving the young man a challenging look.
Her apparent ‘trainer’ was not amused. ”And if you had been hunting, you would have missed your target and sent it running off.” He gave her one more disapproving look before nodding towards her bow and saying, ”try again.”
If there was one thing Snaeha detested, it was losing face; especially to some cocky guy who thought he was ten times the archer she was. She would not let this fellow think he had outsmarted her as well as be a better archer than her. So she obliged, albeit resentfully. This time when she notched her arrow she made sure her positioning could not flawed: back straight, feet angled slightly towards the target…
…almost falling over when her poker-faced not-a-trainer gently tapped her foot, scowling as he did so, ”Feet pointed dead ahead, not at an angle. That’s better.”
She would have glared at him and told this stranger just where to stick his helpful tips, but as she altered her stance to incorporate his orders, even Snaeha had to admit she felt damn sight more comfortable with her feet not angled. She grunted her thanks before trying once again.
This time, the arrow landed a damn sight closer to the bull’s-eye than her previous attempt. Snaeha merely shrugged, trying her upmost to hide her joy and sudden need to cheer.
|| Snaeha's speech || Snaeha's thoughts || Others' speech ||
