The escalation from verbal posturing to physical confrontation caught the youth by surprise; he could do no more than intercede his arms between his face and the ground. He came back up with fire in his eyes, but refrained from active response, instead checking over his bow while Merevaika took her next shot -- ostentatiously ignoring the woman's deliberation with her stance and timing. Satisfied the weapon remained in good condition, he continued not to look at the range, but kept an eye on the archer herself, waiting for her attention to return. After her shot, when her regard met his, the youth smiled thinly, no friendship in the expression. "You go ahead and tell yourself whatever lets you sleep at night," he replied. Only then did the youth glance at her second target; everything he'd needed to know about it, he had read in Merevaika's expression. "Just don't count on your shooting to save you from any night lions."
Meanwhile, Khida's focus remained on the dueling personalities, in much the same way one might keep tabs on a coiled snake or dozing leopard. The words flowed past her ears in fluent Pavi, their specifics eluding her -- but tones and postures communicated intent enough. They charged the atmosphere in a way that tickled instinct, made her uncomfortable, even anxious; instinct wanted to leave, to remove herself from what might become more overt conflict. That their wife stayed, even offered a deliberately nonchalant tease, kept Khida's feet firmly fixed to to trodden grass, little though she liked it.
"Gavin!" The young woman who had not quite intervened before did so now, stepping forward from the audience, her hands shaping talk talk talk. "We're here for an archery competition, right?" She gave a prompting wave, shooing him towards the range. "So shoot!" The other young Drykas in the audience, evidently their peers and friends, took up similar exhortations, all in the tune of less words more arrows. Gavin executed a half-mocking bow towards their collective prompting before taking up the shooting position. Once his regard had shifted, and anything she did wouldn't spur further distraction, the young woman cast an apologetic half-smile towards the female competitors, emphatically signing Semele's patience and dust-for-brains male.
At his turn, Gavin dusted off and exercised his patience, gauging the wind and calibrating his shot. His first landed solidly in the center ring -- and all apparent nonchalance evaporated like the mirage it was, his pride resurfacing in a glance cast towards Merevaika. The youth paid for that indulgence, however, when he turned about for the second shot; for all his deliberation about the shot, his second arrow landed a solid two inches left of that center ring, an outcome which narrowed his eyes and shadowed his expression. It also earned him several groans from his onlookers, though the woman who'd stepped forward remained a quiet presence on the field.
That left only Khida to take her turn, though it took her several moments -- and a hint of prompting -- to act on that fact. She glanced towards their wife, and shook her head, belated answer to the redhead's tease; perform better than Naiya had, at a challenge which involved turning around? Not likely. But she stepped up to the line, because it was her turn... and paused there to stare at the problematic youth until he fidgeted beneath her gaze, his hands shaping baffled query that the Kelvic let pass without answer.
Satisfied that he would -- probably -- stay on the sideline until she was finished, Khida spent a few moments studying the target and the blowing wind. There wasn't much to the target, just another set of circles at the same distance; the wind moved fitfully, now subsiding, now gusting in a way that boded poorly indeed for her scores. She measured her breaths against it -- in while it blew, out as it quieted -- seeking any rhythm, any sense of timing that might be had at the most subliminal of levels. She nocked her arrow, looked towards the center of the target, waited... waited... let go in the midst of an exhale. And didn't bother watching to witness its outcome.
Pivoting on a heel, Khida focused on the second target. Breathed. Measured. Aimed. Released, and saw the wind catch her arrow mid-flight, driving it into the lower-left quadrant, well distant from the center. Her first arrow, upon review, had at least landed within an inch of the center, but whatever insight she had possessed during that shot had decisively fled during the second.
With all participants having completed the second challenge, the moderator clapped his hands for their attention and explained the third phase of the competition: a timed launch. Thirty ticks per contestant, with up to three arrows to be shot in that time. The simple description, Khida comprehended readily enough, and it did not fill her with joy; she had never considered time when shooting. At least they only had to be concerned with one target this time.
By contrast, Gavin's expression brightened; he seemed more pleased by the announcement than anything else.
Meanwhile, Khida's focus remained on the dueling personalities, in much the same way one might keep tabs on a coiled snake or dozing leopard. The words flowed past her ears in fluent Pavi, their specifics eluding her -- but tones and postures communicated intent enough. They charged the atmosphere in a way that tickled instinct, made her uncomfortable, even anxious; instinct wanted to leave, to remove herself from what might become more overt conflict. That their wife stayed, even offered a deliberately nonchalant tease, kept Khida's feet firmly fixed to to trodden grass, little though she liked it.
"Gavin!" The young woman who had not quite intervened before did so now, stepping forward from the audience, her hands shaping talk talk talk. "We're here for an archery competition, right?" She gave a prompting wave, shooing him towards the range. "So shoot!" The other young Drykas in the audience, evidently their peers and friends, took up similar exhortations, all in the tune of less words more arrows. Gavin executed a half-mocking bow towards their collective prompting before taking up the shooting position. Once his regard had shifted, and anything she did wouldn't spur further distraction, the young woman cast an apologetic half-smile towards the female competitors, emphatically signing Semele's patience and dust-for-brains male.
At his turn, Gavin dusted off and exercised his patience, gauging the wind and calibrating his shot. His first landed solidly in the center ring -- and all apparent nonchalance evaporated like the mirage it was, his pride resurfacing in a glance cast towards Merevaika. The youth paid for that indulgence, however, when he turned about for the second shot; for all his deliberation about the shot, his second arrow landed a solid two inches left of that center ring, an outcome which narrowed his eyes and shadowed his expression. It also earned him several groans from his onlookers, though the woman who'd stepped forward remained a quiet presence on the field.
That left only Khida to take her turn, though it took her several moments -- and a hint of prompting -- to act on that fact. She glanced towards their wife, and shook her head, belated answer to the redhead's tease; perform better than Naiya had, at a challenge which involved turning around? Not likely. But she stepped up to the line, because it was her turn... and paused there to stare at the problematic youth until he fidgeted beneath her gaze, his hands shaping baffled query that the Kelvic let pass without answer.
Satisfied that he would -- probably -- stay on the sideline until she was finished, Khida spent a few moments studying the target and the blowing wind. There wasn't much to the target, just another set of circles at the same distance; the wind moved fitfully, now subsiding, now gusting in a way that boded poorly indeed for her scores. She measured her breaths against it -- in while it blew, out as it quieted -- seeking any rhythm, any sense of timing that might be had at the most subliminal of levels. She nocked her arrow, looked towards the center of the target, waited... waited... let go in the midst of an exhale. And didn't bother watching to witness its outcome.
Pivoting on a heel, Khida focused on the second target. Breathed. Measured. Aimed. Released, and saw the wind catch her arrow mid-flight, driving it into the lower-left quadrant, well distant from the center. Her first arrow, upon review, had at least landed within an inch of the center, but whatever insight she had possessed during that shot had decisively fled during the second.
With all participants having completed the second challenge, the moderator clapped his hands for their attention and explained the third phase of the competition: a timed launch. Thirty ticks per contestant, with up to three arrows to be shot in that time. The simple description, Khida comprehended readily enough, and it did not fill her with joy; she had never considered time when shooting. At least they only had to be concerned with one target this time.
By contrast, Gavin's expression brightened; he seemed more pleased by the announcement than anything else.
Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi
