01-02-2008, 12:26 PM
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   Time passed, and as it did, Skoll found himself doing better, though he was still unsure with this new tool. He had fired five shots, before going forward to retrieve the arrows. Two were stuck in the wall, above the deer. One had skidded along the floor, and two were in the deer, though only one had actually made it into the outer ring of the target, and that was a fluke, he was certain. He wasn't very good at this, but he knew that it would take patience and practice to develop the skill enough to be proficient. As he fired, he would cover new words. By the time his fifth arrow had hit the deer in the shoulder, he had commented on what constituted a 'miss', and what constituted a 'hit'. He mentioned the 'deer' as well, though he didn't want to overwhelm her. How many new words could a wolf learn in one sitting? Probably not many, by memory alone. Practice with the language, much as with the bow, would determine the accuracy with which each was used. He couldn't use the weapon in a practical sense after so short a time, though having the proper grip on the instrument did improve his shots markedly. There was a determination in his eyes, though. Skoll had discipline, it was what kept him in fighting form after all this time, and honed for battle even in peace time. He would practice until he got it right, and keep on practicing...though how he'd do that--considering it was her bow--hadn't crossed his mind yet. ~The lyrics are from the best song ever written. |