[MaMa] Point shoot

Alister Callow · 09-18-2012, 02:27 PM

[html]

OOC

Word Count → 000

A pleasant shiver ran down his russet saddled back at her wink, and he grinned, chuckling along with her. He knew he was pushing his luck, but she'd spared him the usual punishment. Pity. He was a glutton for punishment. He compliantly backed down, however. It was still early, and they had the rest of their lives to be together, though he remained hopeful for what the evening would bring. Anything was possible with Saqui. She humored him in his mischevious advances, only fueling his desire for her. For after all, what was life without laughter if not excessively droll? Hmmm...Maybe he'd sit and watch the sunset with her tonight. She'd like that, he thought.

He was drawn from his reverie when the bow was placed in his hand. Sounding a note of laughter he shook his head slowly, the wolfdog quirking a brow at her sudden outburst of giggling. "Something I missed?" He queried, with a bemused sideways glance. He lowered the bow slightly as his warm hazel eyes rested on his mate. The bow was lifted once again in the upright position, as he looked to her for guidance. He was putty in her hands and quickly adjusted with her wordless instructions, though her kicking caused him to jump, surprised. "He-e-ey now!" he knew she'd meant it as a guidance, his reaction brought on by surprise than anything else, and smiled sheepishly, setting his stance just as she'd instructed. He was a good student if nothing else and was quickly standing just as she'd asked him to.

Russet ears remained focused on her the entire time, eagerly soaking in her guiding words. He nodded in agreement, allowing her hand to tug at his elbow in the proper form. His brow furrowed a little as he focused, though her fingers ghosting across his arm was distracting. Glancing at her for approval, he turned toward the target, squinting a little as he took aim and loosed.

Though it wasn't entirely dismal...well, by his account, it flew past the target and travelled through the air and out of sight. "Er...oops." he flushed. He'd drawn too far, the strength in his arms telling in how far it flew. The man was a swordsman more than anything else, and the knight's dance was quite the opposite of archery. Archery took patience, and careful planning, with no true interaction with one's target. He would have been sorely put out if he'd had to give up his sword. It was more than a weapon, it was a part of him, a part of who he was, and to be forced to live without it would have destroyed him.

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