An Attempt at Archery (Kovac)

[Feyra]

Season of Winter, Day 48, 510AV Feyra stared at the glass pendant in her hand. It was beautifully crafted; she had all but mastered their creation now. Various blues and greens flowed round and through each other like coloured water, trapped within a frozen shell. She sighed and placed it back on the table. She’d been inside for the entire day so far, and she was getting fidgety. It was time for a trip outside. Her gaze moved round the room and came to rest on the bow abandoned near the door. She hadn’t used it in a while, her skill in archery was appalling, despite her father being rather gifted in the art himself. The bow she was looking at now was in-fact a creation of his; it was an attempt to get her to take up the craft, to learn how to shoot an arrow in the direction she actually wanted it to go. In a second the decision was made. She would try and honour his wish. In one movement she was up and out the door, the bow clutched in her grip, arrows rattling in a quiver she’d slung over her shoulder. She strolled towards the archery range, praying that it would be empty. She didn’t need anyone witnessing her embarrassing attempt at archery. She also didn’t want anyone to get hurt, her aim was really terrible. She hummed as she went, tucking her long red hair behind her ears.

[Kovac]

Someone had been bored or crazy enough to set up a makeshift archery range atop the massive layer of snow outside the warrens of Wind Reach. the siege of winter did strange things to people, and apparently the spirit of the recently completed winter festival had inspired some daring archers to set up this practice area, ironically at the location where, under fifteen feet of snow, a permanent outdoor range lay. Kovac had just finished giving Shayth a lesson. The two had decided on the solitude of this outdoor venue, away from prying, judging eyes. Turiska, Shayth's eagle mount, had wanted to spread her wings after the pre-festival storms that had grounded the wind eagles for days. This gave the raptor a chance to get out and drop her rider at the range. The Avora, of course, had to sludge his way there on foot. Shayth's mount had tolerated Kovac's presence, as long as the archer made no effort to approach her. The prospect of actually getting to ride with Shayth were currently slim and none. Kovac was more than fine with that. An eagle had already eaten one person this winter, the half-blood did not want to be the next. Turiska had just come to wisk the Endal away, leaving Kovac alone to practice his shots on his own. He tugged his dark katinu tigther around him to ward off the cold. The wind was graciously quiet, the sun peeking out of the ragged cloud cover in broad, bright streaks. Taking his bow in hand, the archer set an arrow to the string, drawing it back as he raised the weapon to shooting postion. After only a moment of concentration, the sound of boots crunching through the snow drifted over the white landscape. With a sigh, Kovac lowered the bow and turned in the direction of the intruder's footsteps. A small figure, most likely a woman, wrapped in a black katinu approached with a bow and quiver. "Company, yea." Kovac muttered sardonically to himself.

[Feyra]

As she neared the archery range, Feyra realised that someone was already there. She smiled, someone almost as mad as her to want to practice on a day in the middle of Winter. She wondered if it was him who had set up the makeshift range, no less than fifteen feet above the original one. She also wondered what would happen in the summer if they forgot to remove it before the snow gave out underneath. She pulled her katinu tighter round her, and stepped into the range. She peered at the person again. It was a fellow Avora, she knew that, and she recalled that he was a talented archer. She’d seen him at the Winter Lights festival just days before. She sent a small smile his way before looking back at the targets. Just my luck that there’s an archer here on the day I decide to practise/ She sighed and proceeded to string an arrow into her bow nonetheless. She raised the bow and squinted at the target, lining it up the best she could. When she released the arrow it sailed right past the target and out of sight, probably to embed itself in a tree some thirty feet away. She grimaced and glanced back over to where the other Avora was stood. Could her aim actually be any poorer?

[Kovac]

As the figure approached, he too recognized her from the festival. She had been watching as as the fortune telling girl did a card reading for him. Kovac had know her before, or at least of her. She too was only half Inarta, and therefore a bit out of the ordinary. The Avora girl's human blood was not as apparent as his Vanthan, but she was pegged as a half-blood all the same. And Kovac knew the stigma that sometimes carried. The archer nodded in response to Feyra's smile, but offered no greeting. It was not that Kovac didn't like her, he barely knew her. Quite the contrary, he identified with her in many ways. Being a half-breed, child of a bowyer, Avora. And, of course, the fact that she was attractive certainly was not overlooked. Even bundled up, he could see her fresh young face, framed by loose strands of deep red hair. But his attention was on his shooting, and the reason why he had stayed behind was to work alone. Kovac nocked an arrow to his string, watching the woman from the corner of his eye as she drew an arrow and set it to her bowstring. As she raised the bow, he shook his head, turning to watch. All wrong, he told himself. The girl released her string and the arrow flew wide, sailing past the target. He snickered, then composed a somber face. raising his own bow and drawing back, he paused for a moment. Staring down at his target, Kovac spoke up. "You are doing it all wrong," he stated matter-of-factly. Then he let his arrow fly, finding the target just below and left of center. He turned again to the new arrival, leaning on his shortbow. "Do it again."

[Feyra]

As she looked over to the Avora standing a little way off, she realized that he had in fact, been watching her the entire time. Which meant that he, an archer, had seen her appalling shot. She had thought she'd imagined hearing a very quiet laugh, and now, looking at him, she didn't doubt it. To him it probably was rather funny. Here she was, the daughter of a bowyer, and she couldn't handle one without making a fool of herself. "You are doing it all wrong." She raised her brow and watched as his own arrow sailed through the air to land in the target. Probably almost bang on where he wanted it to go. "Do it again." She rolled her eyes and, without a word reached for another arrow. She strung it into her bow exactly as she had done before and raised it to aim. She paused for a moment, words on the tip of her tongue, but shook her head and instead let her arrow go. Again, it missed her target. Though she didn't think it had gone quite as wide as the last time. Nevertheless, it was still a shoddy try. She glared at the empty space in front of her, her bow-arm falling back to her side. Without looking at the Avora, she asked him a question. "I'm doing everything wrong?"

[Kovac]

Kovac did not watch the arrow's path as it left Feyra's bow this time, rather concentrating on her form and technique...or lack thereof. She was a wretched shot, and it made him cringe to see those arrows disappear into the snow somewhere beyond the target. One of Kovac's duties in Wind Reach was instructing archery. And though he lived with Shayth under the auspices of training her, he also taught others. This one needed much instruction. The archer saw his fellow half-blood's face fall in disappointment, and as she stared at the arrowless target, he walked over to her lane. "Well, you are not doing everything wrong...just most things." He chided, looking down at her boots. They were placed roughly parallel to the target. "Your feet are place about right." He reached out with his booted foot and nudged the inside of her feet until they were about shoulder length apart. "There." "Now," Kovac looked up into her rich green eyes, very similar to his own. "Do you know which of your eyes are dominant? Here..." He turned towards the target, holding his arms eye level out in front of him. "Do this. Put your hands together making a small triangle between your thumbs and the first finger. With both eyes open, look through the triangle at the bullseye of the target. Then, close your left eye. If the bullseye stays in view, you are right eye dominant. If your hands appear to move off the bullseye and move to the left, then you are left eye dominant." Kovac dropped his hands and turned to watch the young woman try it. "Whichever eye is dominant...that is the side that should draw your string."

[Feyra]

Most things... She couldn't help but sigh. The Avora didn't understand how it was even possible to be so bad at the art of her own father. She looked round at Kovac as he approached her, and followed his gaze down to her feet. She let him guide them into the correct position with his own boot till they were positioned under her shoulders. She hadn't been too far off, but she was surprised by how much comfier such a simple alteration left her. She looked up at the same time as he did, and her eyes met his. She was caught for a moment, distracted by the lovely shade of green that coloured his irises. When he turned away, she quickly did the same, observing how he held his hands before him. She held out her bow for him to take, so that she could carry out his instruction. When her hands were free, she formed the triangle then looked through, directly at the bullseye. She first closed her left eye, and then her right, turning to Kovac with her discovery. "It stayed in my view with my left eye closed so...I'm right dominant." Her voice rose ever so slightly at the end, making her statement into something more like a question.

[Kovac]

Kovac took the girl's bow and watched as she lifted her outstretched arms and followed his instructions. After performing the test, he offered back her bow. "Good, then you are at least shooting with the correct hand." The Avora stepped over to pick up his bow and returned to Feyra's side. The glassworker needed help, lots of it. "Now, to start, place the handle of your bow in the crotch between your thumb and first finger, like this." He demonstrated with his own bow. Kovac's eyes darted to the girl's with a wry grin. Many of his younger students snickered when he would use the word 'crotch' and he gauged Feyra's reaction as well. She was pretty, he thought, but a pathetic archer. "Then, draw back your string as you raise the bow. Like this." The archer demonstrated, raising his weapon and pulling back the string. "Do not grip the handle, let it rest in the....space between your thumb and finger. Gripping the handle could cause it to tilt just enough to throw off your aim, and eventually your hand will get cramped." Kovac lowered the bow and nodded at his impromptu student. "Now you try with an arrow. Its Feyra, right?" He inquired. He was pretty sure that was her name, knew for sure in fact. But he had learned a little friendliness, however difficult for the cynical Avora to pull off, helped others relax and learn easier.

[Feyra]

She gave a quick nod, relived that she wasn't doing something so shockingly embarrassing as shooting with the wrong hand. She sort of knew that she had that part right, after she'd tried with her left hand one time before. That was just...a fail from start to finish. Her arrows had just sort of...dropped out of the string to land a foot or so in front of her. She took her bow back for the archer and watched as he retrieved his own. After his sentence, her brow raised slightly, and she couldn't help but return his wry smile with a slightly amused one of her own. She held her arm before her, and placed the bow in her hand like he had shown her, eyes flicking between the two bows to check she had done it correctly. When he pulled back the string, she copied, and then her face lit up with realisation. She had always gripped her bow tight, for fear of dropping it when she fired an arrow. Perhaps that was the main source of her diabolical aim. She didn't release her string, but gently guided it back into resting position with her hand. "Yep, it's Feyra." She smiled. "And if I remember rightly, you are Kovac?" She was almost 100percent certain that was his name, after all, he was well known for his skill. All the same, she made her statement into a question, just in case she was wrong, so as to not risk the embarrassment. She grabbed one of her arrows and raised her bow once more, holding it how Kovac had instructed. She nocked the arrow to her bowstring and pulled it back. Lining up with her target, she took a breath and released the string. Her arrow missed the target again, but it was nowhere near as bad as her previous tries, she was all but a foot out. This time, the arrow didn't vanish from sight either, landing a couple of feet beyond the target. Sure, it was probably a lousy shot, but she was happy all the same, and she turned to Kova to hear his evaluation.

[Kovac]

The girl mimicked Kovac's moves to his satisfaction. She wanted to improve, that was certain. Desire to learn made teaching easier. Kovac had on occasion been so unfortunate as to teach children who would rather play with crows then learn archery. His mind had been filled with the image of eagles dropping children into Thunder Bay. "Yes...I am Kovac." He confirmed matter-of-factly. The archer took a step back, resting the end of his bow on his boot, and watched Feyra take another shot, again studying her technique. It was marginally less horrific. "Alright, now..." He slung his bow over his shoulder and moved to stand behind her. "Draw your bow again, like I showed you." Once the girl had the string pulled back, he continued. "Now hold it." Reaching around, he placed his hand on the hand holding the string against her cheek. He moved it down until it rested along the line of her jaw. And a fine jaw it was, he mused to himself. "Your fingers need to be there." "You are also rolling your left shoulder forward." He seized her left shoulder from behind and pulled it back. "Use your shoulders and your back muscles to pull that string back. You do have back muscles...don't you glassblower?" He could see her begin to shake as she held the bowstring taut. He gave her a firm pat on the back, muffled by her thick kitanu, and moved to stand next to her again. "Now, try another arrow. And for the gods sake at least brush the target this time."