Strings and Blood [Aspen]

[Atyvn]

39th of Summer, 511 AV Twang. That incessant noise tore at him a few years ago. Twang. It bore on his nerves to the very core. He had only endured it to achieve greater skill. But with his father gone, he never received any proper training and nothing close to efficient. Only tagging the occasional rabbit and more of the larger prey in the cold forests, but that was only if he caught them unawares or in a corner and even that was from only a few meters away. Now he tried hitting something just over eighteen meters away. It wasn't working out that particularly well, but a couple of the shafts loosely lodged themselves into the two outer rings and two that somehow graced the inner rings. He didn't know of proper techniques, only of ones he tried to mimic as a boy. Though, he was determined not to use the target that was merely nine meters from his spot. Twang. The noise had renewed itself with annoyance. It bothered him, but only served as determination to find the satisfaction of hitting it the center of that damned target to make it worthwhile. He wished, deep in his longing for his arrow to be true, that Maenes would one day show him something he was doing wrong. Something that helped him get that much closer to the inner rings. Another arrow had whistled by the target to stick into the ground and it only furthered his aggravation with himself. Maenes was the same age as he but she was three times his better! Hoping that she taught him brought the sliver of envy in his heart to wrap itself around his thoughts and wretched them in its tiny grasp. Those years of self-pity and grief spoiled his time and drove regret into his heart. But he was too calm of a soul to fester these things of sin. Thung! He almost threw his bow to the ground in pain and he yelled out curses at Ivak and the world. He covered the fresh wound with his mouth, but he kept his bow in hand to not let his anger get the best of him. Blood was smeared on his lip lightly and slowly ran down his hand from the couple layers of skin that had been scraped off an inch by the string. A very small scrape, but it hurt none-the-less. But a glint of fires burned in his eyes, as determination settled back in and his will blocked the inconvenience out as he notched another arrow. It only, luckily, hit one of the middle rings but it was satisfying. That obviously was not enough though, and he continued on.

[Aspen]

Maenes Frostfawn was unmatched in Avanthal when it came to the shortbow, and the residents knew it. How many times has she told the younger children that no, she would not teach them? Too many. Maenes chooses who she teaches, not the other way around. An archer must be dedicated, they must want to master the skill with every fiber of their being. As usual Maenes was heading to the Archery Range. It was a rare event when her small figure was absent from the place. Her bow was slung over her shoulder, a full quiver of arrows on her back. The dull thud of an arrow reached her ears as she entered and she stopped to watch the young man already shooting. He held a shortbow himself. Maenes had never seen him in the range before, so she chose to watch him. Her current students weren't around, so aside from practicing her already brilliant skills, she would observe this boy. There were a few arrows in the outer ring, but all of the inner rings were bare. Her eyes narrowed slightly as a new arrow flew past the target and lodged itself in the ground behind. A cry from the man drew her attention. Perhaps he was angry at how bad his shot was. But no, there was fresh blood on his hand. Maenes shook her head. He was careless. This was the point that would cause most to give up. She waited for him to angrily gather his arrows and leave. Though he didn't, and it surprised her. She watched with interest as he strung another arrow. She watched the man this time, rather than the arrow. She almost winced at his posture. It was wrong, all wrong. Only after the thud of the arrow sounded did she look to see where it had landed. He was lucky. Shooting like he was, only luck would have enabled it to land in a middle ring. She shook her head lightly as he strung another arrow. She waited until he had loosed it, and then stepped over to him. "You will never hit your target standing like you are." She gestured to him to indicate his stance. "All wrong. Shoot again."

[Atyvn]

Atyvn turned and shuffled backward, his free right hand instinctively growing for his hip where the hilt of his scimitar was. The sight of Maenes stopped him halfway and his cheeks flushed lightly with embarrassment at being startled and being disrespectful of Maenes. It might as well be her range after all. He set his bow down and did a small respectful gesture, still not yet fully taking in what she said yet. Somewhere deep inside him grew bothered at having shown respect, since they were of the same age, but she was in fact his better and he was here after all. "I apologize for intruding so early, I just wanted..." his words slowed nearing the end of the sentence. In truth, he had been here very early since the last week of spring but he had always cleaned up and left before anyone arrived. Shoot again? he replayed in his thoughts. He grabbed his bow and notched another arrow after turning back to the targets. He could only grasp at the vague memories of his father shooting his longbow to guide him. And at that point, he realized why his mimicking was so wrong for his short bow. He shifted his feet a little to accommodate his shorter pull back. He shook the thought, thinking he was to be corrected soon anyway with a sharp tongue, and would let the arrow fly. It skimmed off the side of the target. Aggravating as that was now in front of Maenes, he did not let it show in the least, keeping himself bottled like normal; Exception of a few times when he thought no one was about.

[Growl]

Maenes raised a single brow, "you just wanted to what, exactly?" she asked, her voice somewhat cold, her eyes a chilling sapphire blue, as she stepped towards Atvyn, pulling her bow off her shoulder as she walked. She held the center of the wooden frame tightly in her left hand, and ran her eyes up and down his body, inspecting his sad excuse for a stance. "You are shooting all wrong, if you want to be able to hit anything, you must stand correctly. Since you're right eye dominant, you hold the frame of the bow in the left hand, the string with the right. Your index and middle fingers should be hugging the top of your nocked arrow, your ring finger the bottom of it, while the rest of your fingers curl into the hand as you draw back." There was a slight pause, as Maenes walked to Atvyn's side, facing him head-on. Within seconds, she had forced her bow against the back of Atvyn's left leg, trying to nudge it forward. "Your foot should be pointing forwards, towards the target at all times," Maenes explained, before bringing the tip of her bow back against Atvyn's back leg, and then his foot. "The right foot should be turned towards me, so it makes a ninety degree angle with the leading foot and your body. Your feet should be about a foot or so apart, or more. A little more is best, and your knees should be bent only slightly, seemingly not at all. Got it?" she asked, as she pulled her bow back to her, and walked around Atvyn's body. She now faced his back. "Now try taking another shot."

[Atyvn]

The instructions made complete sense once he thought about them. And his excuses for not figuring that out in the last five years annoyed him. The way she said it, more of the way he heard her words, they seemed like common sense. He grew more agitated, but it was at himself, always it was at himself. He had an endless supply of self-pity and that conflicted with pushing himself which always resulted in anger or aggravation directed at him. It was like a dog getting mad because someone kept biting his tail, but it was the dog that was biting himself. "I just wanted to practice." he said quietly, but without the ill feelings beneath his words. But his self-hatred raged behind eyes in subtle color shifts, though he kept them their normal calm blue mostly. That day years ago still tore at his heart, the years following made him learn to force his emotions into control though it never fully worked. Atyvn shifted his feet into her described positions; his left foot pointed forward and his right foot perpendicular to the first. He picked an arrow up from the ground and readjusted his feet so they were back into the proper positions. He notched the arrow, but was still a bit unsure on how to hold it. Maenes instructions were clear, but he was a visual learner and it was easier for him to observe than listen to a lecture. He tried to position his fingers according to her instructions, but the only thing he probably got right was where his fingers should be and he curled his fingers before pulling back at all. He stretched the sting back and held for a moment. "Like so?" he asked, wanting to make sure he had it right, but felt incompetent for not trusting his gut feelings. Not harm in asking though, right?

[Growl]

As soon as Atvyn asked about how he was doing, Maenes gave him a swift one-over. His position was far better, but his hands seemed to be trembling, as though he were cold, or perhaps nervous. Perhaps, even, the drawback weight of his bow was a little much, the archer could not be sure. "Better," she commented with a slight nod, her voice curt, somewhat cold, as though surprised that he could not manage to trust his instincts. As though she now thought him somewhat stupid for struggling with such a simple set of instructions; at least when it came to his mentality. Definitely not student material, if he cannot pick up his game, Maenes thought, as she waited for Atvyn to shoot. "Whenever you're ready," she instructed, when she felt she had been kept in suspense for too long. OOCSorry this is somewhat short, but I don't know what to say when your pc has not shot yet... she can't really give much more advice until she sees how you are doing.

[Atyvn]

OOCSo sorry, I didn't know... exactly how to go about it. I've haven’t done any posts about how to use a weapon on here yet and just... nervous I guess. I'm trying to factor in how he would act but yet how I want this to turn out. And... I don't like to get ahead too much because I feel like I'm trying to take control of the situation. x.x Admittedly, I was never good at anything but people skills and emotions in roleplaying. Tried to... stay away from fighting. But I'm babbling. Atyvn scolded himself for even asking, somewhat noticing the impatience growing in her. He let the arrow fly and it hit the target, not where he wanted, but it still hit the outer rings. And he felt it wasn't a luck shot that time like most, if not all, his shots were before this point. But he took no time at all to scoop up another arrow. His mind took mental notes on how he fired it since if he did not learn from observing others; he tried to figure out what was wrong with himself. That never got him much anywhere without the first nudge and Maenes gave him a path to walk towards so now he thought over what she said and tried it again before he would take notice to anything she said unless she physically interrupted him. He placed his fingers the same way, knowing that much was correct, and drew back and curled his fingers back during the draw. Without hesitating now, his attempts at throwing away his doubts working their way in, and he would have let another arrow fly. It buried itself much further inward than the first, still not the middle, but this was great improvement for him. But pride would not flow into him, his eyes an anxious orange, only the wanting to place another shot closer to the middle than the second. Though, he wouldn't notch a third arrow until he let Maenes speak if she wanted or to take in what she had said previously.

[Growl]

OOCIt's totally fine. Just a bit of advice- be as detailed as possible, that way I can award you with more experience in the end! Maenes simply stood in silence simply watching Atvyn shoot. "Do you ever take notice of your surroundings when you shoot?" she asked, as her grip tightened around the wooden frame of the bow. "Look at where you stand. You are within an enclosed building, with flickering flames for light lining the wall. Your target is not particularly far off, and you stand facing it. But what else do you face? Are you enduring the rage of the elements? Do you have to fight them to make your mark?" she asked. Knowing quite well what the answer would be; yes it was somewhat cold within the range, but that was the nature of Avanthal, just about everywhere you went carried an icy edge to it. But here, snow and wind could not make its way through the doors, here, there was nothing other than the force of gravity to sway an arrow from its course. "When you shoot your next arrow, try not to over-compensate for the lack of elements, aiming far to high over the target, the bulls-eye to make your mark," Maenes instructed. "With the absence of the wind, you need only aim a little higher than the target's center. Perhaps a little to the northeast or west of it as well. It should ensure you shoot better, since you also must consider how things fall, for an arrow does not have wings to help keep it suspended in midair." There was a slight pause, and when Maenes spoke again, her voice was somewhat softer, slightly less cold. "Now shoot again whenever you're ready."