Not wanting to lose the pose she was in how, she slightly turned her head to show that she was listening, and remained quiet as she took his words to mind. She was easily taught, and despite the awkwardness she felt towards the younger male, his teachings made her calm, the metaphors providing some comfort and moral strength. Young as he was, he had a way with the voice, and it became obvious that what he was doing right then and there, teaching her a skill that one day in the near future save a life, was what he was made to do.
She followed his words as he spoke, positioning the end of the arrow on the string like she had done earlier--though this time she actual knew what she was doing. She held it where Max told her too, though his next instruction corrected her once more; she had gripped onto the pointed missile tightly, afraid that it’ll somehow fly out of her hands with the faintest release of her hold. But, the beastly man was the expert here and once again adhered, loosening her fingers bit until it felt ready to soar, though it was still secured.
Sparrow glanced at him once last time as he posed again, and returned her yellow gaze to the tree ahead. Again she imagined herself like a trunk, and pulled on the string while the bow was pushed forward. She felt it bend slightly, and for a moment of fear wanted to release her hold on the weapon or pause where she was, but the string was not as drawn back as Max’s was, and continued to pull. Her light hand made contact with her muzzle, as it had done with the other, and drew back no further.
She felt powerful—the arrow that was posed to be launched begged to be released from its pull, to make its mark in its guide’s target, whether it is bark of a tree or perhaps in the near future, flesh that claimed holy justice. She felt awed by the strength that she found within herself, though the bow provided support, and for a moment was afraid; Sparrow was not used to have such a force at her fingertips, and feared it. But, she did not allow herself to sway, and remained in her still stance, only the slightest of breath to show that she was not a statue that was frozen in rock.
Word Count → 411
OOC here!
<style type="text/css">
.sparraze2 b {font-weight:bold; color:#c32000; }
.sparraze2 p {padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:0px;}
.sparraze2 {margin:0px auto; width:500px; background-color:#9f9c97; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/8Hy9Q.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000; padding: 420px 0px 5px 0px; font-family:georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#25211f; line-height:16px; text-align:justify;}
.sparraze2 .wordcount {color:#c32000; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:2px dashed #25211f; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:30px 0px 0px; text-align:center;}
.sparraze2 .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; text-align:center; color:#25211f;}
</style>[/html]