513 AV, 2nd Day of Fall
The Drykas glared at her brothers' archery target, chewing on the inside of her raw cheek. She would not be made a fool of by an inanimate object. Once already she had thrown a spear at the bullseye that taunted and goaded her, and missed. Arundel had been standing too far away for someone of her skill. The spear had fallen short and embedded itself in the ground, soft from a recent rainfall, just a few feet shy of her mark. Thank the Gods her brothers weren't around to laugh at her, or the next spear would be flying at them. She smiled at the image of her brothers squawking and scattering like startled hens.
For her next try, she stood several paces closer. She would hit this mark by the end of the day if it killed her. Silently, Arundel threatened herself with the forgoing of dinner. She was a woman who loved her meals, and wasn't sure if she could resist following her little sister back to the mouthwatering smell of food when the time came. It was an empty threat. Arundel swallowed and furrowed her brows. Thinking about chow was going to distract her. Ripping herself out of the tantalizing daydream, she yanked one of her spears from the ground beside her. Carefully, the Drykas braced her feet - one behind the other - and dug the heels of her boots into the soft earth and flattened grass.
Hefting the spear in her right hand, she cocked back her arm, tried to aim as best she could, and whipped the appendage forward. Her fingers released the shaft and it sailed across the embarrassingly small gap toward the circular target. Arundel straightened and watched with growing dismay as she realized it would miss. Her aim had been poor. Not enough time was taken to adjust the spear while it was still in her grasp. It arced just to the left of the target's edge, and buried itself in the ground several feet behind it. "Venhrehk," she cursed quietly to herself. Self-consciously, Arundel peeked over her shoulder. It wouldn't come as a surprise if she spotted her brothers pointing and laughing quietly with their sides heaving. To her relief, she had no audience.
Her baby sister would be helping their mother and her father's first wife prepare dinner. Sometimes she got asked to help, but cooking was not her specialty. She just stood there, looking like an idiot. The one time they had given her free reign over a meal, everyone got violently sick. That was the end of her cooking career. Her brothers were doing only the Gods knew what. Her father - he was helping an old friend today. What with, was none of her business.
The Drykas glared at her brothers' archery target, chewing on the inside of her raw cheek. She would not be made a fool of by an inanimate object. Once already she had thrown a spear at the bullseye that taunted and goaded her, and missed. Arundel had been standing too far away for someone of her skill. The spear had fallen short and embedded itself in the ground, soft from a recent rainfall, just a few feet shy of her mark. Thank the Gods her brothers weren't around to laugh at her, or the next spear would be flying at them. She smiled at the image of her brothers squawking and scattering like startled hens.
For her next try, she stood several paces closer. She would hit this mark by the end of the day if it killed her. Silently, Arundel threatened herself with the forgoing of dinner. She was a woman who loved her meals, and wasn't sure if she could resist following her little sister back to the mouthwatering smell of food when the time came. It was an empty threat. Arundel swallowed and furrowed her brows. Thinking about chow was going to distract her. Ripping herself out of the tantalizing daydream, she yanked one of her spears from the ground beside her. Carefully, the Drykas braced her feet - one behind the other - and dug the heels of her boots into the soft earth and flattened grass.
Hefting the spear in her right hand, she cocked back her arm, tried to aim as best she could, and whipped the appendage forward. Her fingers released the shaft and it sailed across the embarrassingly small gap toward the circular target. Arundel straightened and watched with growing dismay as she realized it would miss. Her aim had been poor. Not enough time was taken to adjust the spear while it was still in her grasp. It arced just to the left of the target's edge, and buried itself in the ground several feet behind it. "Venhrehk," she cursed quietly to herself. Self-consciously, Arundel peeked over her shoulder. It wouldn't come as a surprise if she spotted her brothers pointing and laughing quietly with their sides heaving. To her relief, she had no audience.
Her baby sister would be helping their mother and her father's first wife prepare dinner. Sometimes she got asked to help, but cooking was not her specialty. She just stood there, looking like an idiot. The one time they had given her free reign over a meal, everyone got violently sick. That was the end of her cooking career. Her brothers were doing only the Gods knew what. Her father - he was helping an old friend today. What with, was none of her business.
