“Short answer is I didn't” He spoke calmly back at her as he strode toward the scarecrows, long nosed pliers in hand. Slowly he began prying at the bolts lodged in the aged scrapwood. “I don't know how much you know about,” he turned back to her and wiggled his free hand as to finish his sentence. “but whenever that sky thing happened all us natural mages got visitors. Mine came filled to the brim with martial knowledge” he grimaced as his Victor changed nonsense to knowledge, editing on the fly. “I got my rather incomplete knowledge supplemented in a rather uncomfortable couple of days.” he dropped the weathered bolt into a small hinged top pine box. They would warp and decay over the day of long work, but for training they'd be fine.
He stared up at he remaining bolts left in the targets, a few centre of mass, but the rest along the 'weapon' hand of the 'crow. She had been firing late. He jogged through her morning practice in his mind and thought for a moment. He had been dragging her shots late. Riding past the point her brain was telling her to aim. Mind to hand to release lever too far a jump for tight timing. A correction to be made. “Alright next round I got something for you to try.” he smiled and continued yanking bolts out of over dry wood.
The sun was high in the sky and angrily disapproving of their afternoon activities so it was clearly time for a break. He made a lifting gesture with his hand and a stone slab rose from the earth, soil, roots, insects flowing like water over the sides until it was clean. He rest in on the ground between them and sat on it. Grabbing a small tied cloth from the wagon he unfurled it on the center of the stone, revealing hearty black bread and thick dried sausage as well as some dried figs and an apple sided orb of cheese sealed in wax. He drew his long knife from his belt and started to carve into the bread, and gestured for her to sit across from him as he did. “I think for the next round instead of aiming and shooting on the fly, aim ahead of where you are going and keep it steady and the horse will take you into the path of your shot.” He sliced a oblong circle of sausage and placed on a rough disc of bread and shrugged. “Maybe that'll do something.”
He stared up at he remaining bolts left in the targets, a few centre of mass, but the rest along the 'weapon' hand of the 'crow. She had been firing late. He jogged through her morning practice in his mind and thought for a moment. He had been dragging her shots late. Riding past the point her brain was telling her to aim. Mind to hand to release lever too far a jump for tight timing. A correction to be made. “Alright next round I got something for you to try.” he smiled and continued yanking bolts out of over dry wood.
The sun was high in the sky and angrily disapproving of their afternoon activities so it was clearly time for a break. He made a lifting gesture with his hand and a stone slab rose from the earth, soil, roots, insects flowing like water over the sides until it was clean. He rest in on the ground between them and sat on it. Grabbing a small tied cloth from the wagon he unfurled it on the center of the stone, revealing hearty black bread and thick dried sausage as well as some dried figs and an apple sided orb of cheese sealed in wax. He drew his long knife from his belt and started to carve into the bread, and gestured for her to sit across from him as he did. “I think for the next round instead of aiming and shooting on the fly, aim ahead of where you are going and keep it steady and the horse will take you into the path of your shot.” He sliced a oblong circle of sausage and placed on a rough disc of bread and shrugged. “Maybe that'll do something.”
04-09-2024, 04:04 PM
