Solo It's just like riding a bike!

[Enoleus Frostfawn]

3rd of Fall, 513 AV

The door slowly creaked open, the noise barely able to break through the sound dampening effects of the snow outside. Enoleus' head slowly poked through the opening, gazing around the inside of the building like a deer, checking the area for any hostile predators. It wasn't like he hadn't been here before, but it had been a long time, and after quitting his lessons in the Shortbow - well, he had grown accustomed to trying to avoid Miss Maenes when at all possible. There was a single individual - or, two, he should say - a person he presumed to be a member of the Icewatch, practicing his archery from the top of what Enoleus had to assume was a Dire Kelvic Polarbear.

Since he didn't immediately see Maenes, he slowly closed the door behind him. It was rather refreshing to take a few steps that weren't slogged down by several inches of snow, and the floor was very even and comfortable to walk across, especially given that it was little more than cold, packed-in mud. Enoleus tentatively took a few steps walk up to the firing line, which was more like a piece of wood indicating where he was to fire from than an actual line, and would set himself onto a knee as he got his Composite Longbow from his back and set about stringing it. It retained it's shape even when unstrung, and as a result was actually a bit harder to string. He didn't want to look like a fool in front of the other archer here, who in reality wasn't really giving Enoleus any of his attention, and would struggle as he pulled the string up to thread it through the top, having already strung the bottom.

With a sigh of relief, both physical and mental, he stood back up, his bow ready for use. Well, it was finally time! He had been gazing at this beautiful killing machine each time had had stopped by Snow-Stained to pick up arrows for his shortbow, but only recently had he been able to actually afford it. Now, finally, as he drew an arrow from his quiver, he was going to actually get to fire it! Granted, he had never fired a longbow before, but, well... How hard could it actually be? It couldn't be all that different from the Shortbow, at the very least.

He nocked the arrow, lifting it up to give himself a line of sight. The entire thing was a bit heavy and unruly, and he had to lower it again, adjusting his stance. He couldn't hold it as close to his chest as he had with his Shortbow, and he had to hold it much more perpendicular to the ground. He lifted it back again, the arrow still nocked, and would sight down the side of it, closing his other eye and focusing in on the closest target. Ten yards, if he remembered correctly from his last visit here. Ten yards was incredibly easy, and he was mostly doing this just as a warm-up shot. He slowly drew back on the arrow, dismayed by how much more draw weight was on the string. He new it would be so, that was the entire point of the Composite Longbow - but feeling it first hand was somewhat startling. He pulled back further, before loosing his shot at the target.

The arrow left him, traveled roughly an inch, then fell flatly to the ground. Enoleus started down it, his jaw somewhat slack. "What the...?" He knelt, scooping the arrow back up and staring at it. He tightened his grip around it, gritting his teeth. "Okay... Just gotta put a bit more force into it." He would nock the arrow again, and would glance down at his feet. A wider stance would likely allow him to pull back on the shot more comfortably, as it would give him more leverage. He inched his feet apart, turning slightly so that he was facing the target at his left side - trying to imitate the stance he had observed others using with the Longbow in the past. He closed one of his eyes again, pulling back hard on the shot.

It flew much truer from his bow this time, sailing across the range - and hitting the wall behind the target. Enoleus let out a wistful sigh, lowering his head. He hadn't even been that good with his Shortbow, but he had been slowly getting better. It was a little too much like being a kid again to be this bad of a shot. He lifted his head, drawing another arrow with resigned indignation on his face. "I'll just keep going until I get it right!"

x

[Enoleus Frostfawn]

The wall around the target was peppered with arrows, with a seldom few piercing the outermost areas of the target. Several bells had passed, and the sun had begun to retreat into the skyline - a fact which would have been lost on Enoleus even if he was outside, so intense was his focus. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he was forced to pause a moment to wipe the sweat away lest it run down and cloud his eyes, making his task all the more difficult.

He wasn't totally disappointed - he had gotten a few shots on the target, after all. Not everything he had learned with the Shortbow was wrong - but the weight of each shot, the strain on his arms with each draw - subtle factors that added up, making his task infinitely more difficult. He breathed out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. His arm was burning from the constant practice, but far worse was the dull pain in his ego swelling up somewhere from inside his chest. He stared at the target several moments more, his eyes tracing over the multiple rings. So far, he had only managed to score hits on the black rings, and even then - not consistently. If he could at least get a few shots on the white rings, he would feel as if he had accomplished something.

He narrowed his eyes, squinting intently as he observed the patterns of his shots. They were mostly misses, yes, but perhaps something about how he had missed could be useful? He tapped absently on his chin, shifting prisms of silvers, blues and greens descending upon his retinas. For the most part, all his misses had wound up on the right side of the target. The shots had been getting progressively lower with each shot, as far as he could remember the order he had taken them. The shots getting lowered he understood - he had been firing for hours without giving his arm any time to rest, so naturally the maximum strength he could put on the string was slowly being reduced. However, it was more interesting that most his shots fell on the right side of the target.

He lifted his bow, no arrow nocked this time, to take a mock stance - preparing to fire an invisible arrow. His body was shifted left to the target, as it was his dominant right hand that pulled back on the shot. He slowly pulled back on the string, feigning as if he was aiming. "Hm..."

He moved his attention from his shots on the wall down to his arms as they pulled back the string. His right arm was trembling slightly from the effort, which was no doubt going to throw his shot way off. His eyes traced up along his right arm to his elbow - which was stuck way out behind him. When releasing the shot, the angle of arm was bent at would invariably cause him to yank the bow slightly to the right. It wasn't a problem with the Shortbow, as he had been able to fire it with a much tighter, closer stance to his own core. He relaxed on the string, gritting his teeth slightly as he furrowed his eyebrows with renewed determination.

His hand slipped up to his quiver, drawing another shot. He nocked it, running his hand down the shaft a few times as he stared at the target. Ten yards, medium sized target, no wind interference. He lifted the bow up, slowly beginning to pull back on the string, very careful to keep his elbow tucked in even as the increasing strain in his arm made it more and more tempting to pull it out further to reduce the gnawing burn running up and down his muscles. "Pain is irrelevant. I'm not going to run away from this. I will make the shot because I have too."

The thought brought a small spark of strength somewhere within him as he closed his left eye to aim the shot with more clarity, and he latched on too it as desperately as he could - it was a rare sensation. "My family was taken from me, but I'm still here. I was attacked by a tiger, but I'm still here. My arm feels like it's being submerged in lava, but I'm still here." He grit his teeth, drawing in one final breath before holding it - using every ounce of willpower he had to stop the trembling in his arms. "My life has too much in store for me to be roadblocked by something like this!"

Everything slowly for a fraction of a second, Enoleus' staring through his one open eye at his target. There was no archery range, no onlookers - just an open tundra, snowflake lightly falling about him. All was silent, the shadows of Talderan Sabertooth encroaching on him from behind. There was no more room in his heart for fear in this moment, and his lips involuntarily turned upward into a smile.

The world returned to him as the shaft flew from his Longbow like a strike of lightning. Slowly lowering his bow, Enoleus would let out a long breath, his lungs deeply grateful as he began to breath normally again. After holding that shot so long, his arm felt damn near dead, but as he stared at the target, he couldn't help but continue smiling.

There it was - perfectly in the center of the white ring on the target. Sure, nowhere near the bullseye still - but it was the closest he had ever gotten. It didn't even matter how badly his arm hurt at this point - both his arms would grow use to it over time, but more importantly, he didn't really see any value in quitting while he was ahead. After all, in a race, it's much more pertinent to push that sort of advantage, isn't it?

He nocked an arrow, readying another shot. It would be a long, long night.

x

~CONGRATULATIONS~ Enoleus : Please deduct seasonal expenditure from your ledger for Fall to receive your grade. When you have done so please PM me and I will post your grade. If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade please feel free to send me PM.