15min fic #28
Sep. 4th, 2004 02:50 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ The Dangers of Archery
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 28. And~ we're caught up again. Missed last night's due to an essay I had to write for uni, but that's out of the way now, hurrah!
~ ~ ~
Nimay took a deep breath and glared hard at the target at the end of the archery range. The black-and-white painted circles mocked her, particularly the small red dot, not much larger than the diameter of her arrow, that stared at her from the centre of the rings. It seemed that the only way she could ever hit it was through blind luck or the use of magic.
The members of the Own who were in it for their skills with the bow and arrow seemed to all be able to hit the little red dot blindfolded, as they demonstrated to her from other stations in the archery range. Nimay found it difficult to even hit the target, let alone the centre of it.
She sighed again and fixed her arrow to the string of her practice bow, setting her feet comfortably in the sandy earth of the range. Eyes fixed on the target, she held her left arm out straight and drew the bowstring, running her sight along the arrow to the target beyond.
The bowstring suddenly snapped from the top end of the bow. The string, having been pulled taught for Lin knew how long, lashed back, wrapping itself painfully around Nimay’s arm. She gave a sharp cry of pain, ignoring the bow and arrow that dropped limply to the ground.
Her left hand gripped at her upper arm, where it came away damp and sticky with new blood. She paced in a circle for a few moments, riding out the initial shock of pain and waited for it to dull to a more bearable throb.
“Are you okay, General?” The concerned voice was that of Garuk, one of the archers of the Own. He’d experienced the pain of a broken bowstring many times, as evidenced by the scars on his arms and face.
Nimay nodded, glaring accusingly at the bow lying in the dirt. The string, stained red about halfway along, snaked through the dust, now completely harmless.
“You’re lucky that didn’t get your eye,” Garuk informed her, “Do you want to go to the healing house?”
Nimay raised one eyebrow.
The archer grinned and held up his hands defensively. “Fair enough, I only meant to enquire as to your well being.”
The general shrugged. The wound would undoubtedly scar, since it was quite deep, but so long as she left it alone and it didn’t get infected, there would be no need to take it to the healers.
She rolled her right shoulder, slightly stiff from having held it tense against the pain, then kicked at the dejected bow lying in the dust. At least if a sword broke, it generally didn’t attack the one who wielded it.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 28. And~ we're caught up again. Missed last night's due to an essay I had to write for uni, but that's out of the way now, hurrah!
Nimay took a deep breath and glared hard at the target at the end of the archery range. The black-and-white painted circles mocked her, particularly the small red dot, not much larger than the diameter of her arrow, that stared at her from the centre of the rings. It seemed that the only way she could ever hit it was through blind luck or the use of magic.
The members of the Own who were in it for their skills with the bow and arrow seemed to all be able to hit the little red dot blindfolded, as they demonstrated to her from other stations in the archery range. Nimay found it difficult to even hit the target, let alone the centre of it.
She sighed again and fixed her arrow to the string of her practice bow, setting her feet comfortably in the sandy earth of the range. Eyes fixed on the target, she held her left arm out straight and drew the bowstring, running her sight along the arrow to the target beyond.
The bowstring suddenly snapped from the top end of the bow. The string, having been pulled taught for Lin knew how long, lashed back, wrapping itself painfully around Nimay’s arm. She gave a sharp cry of pain, ignoring the bow and arrow that dropped limply to the ground.
Her left hand gripped at her upper arm, where it came away damp and sticky with new blood. She paced in a circle for a few moments, riding out the initial shock of pain and waited for it to dull to a more bearable throb.
“Are you okay, General?” The concerned voice was that of Garuk, one of the archers of the Own. He’d experienced the pain of a broken bowstring many times, as evidenced by the scars on his arms and face.
Nimay nodded, glaring accusingly at the bow lying in the dirt. The string, stained red about halfway along, snaked through the dust, now completely harmless.
“You’re lucky that didn’t get your eye,” Garuk informed her, “Do you want to go to the healing house?”
Nimay raised one eyebrow.
The archer grinned and held up his hands defensively. “Fair enough, I only meant to enquire as to your well being.”
The general shrugged. The wound would undoubtedly scar, since it was quite deep, but so long as she left it alone and it didn’t get infected, there would be no need to take it to the healers.
She rolled her right shoulder, slightly stiff from having held it tense against the pain, then kicked at the dejected bow lying in the dust. At least if a sword broke, it generally didn’t attack the one who wielded it.