kawa~ inspiration #31
Feb. 10th, 2005 10:01 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Morning Target Practice
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ You know what? All mine. Again.
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration 31. Yep, that it is.
~ ~ ~
The early morning sunlight turned the desert a beautiful red-gold, striking against the pale, dusty sky. The shadows cast by the cliffs north of Ni-Yana were still long and would be for several hours yet, before the heat of the day struck and not even the gorge of the Ra-Lin would provide sufficient shade.
The four archers of the King’s Own often took the opportunity two or three times a week to do some more challenging archery training, much to the displeasure of Gylepi and Nolryn—they would both have preferred to spend those few hours dozing.
Nol glanced behind him as he rode Mongrel to the edge of the shadow. Stuck to the cliff wall was the painted wooden target the four of them had made for this purpose. It definitely provided more of a challenge than the archery range back at the palace, but he’d still prefer to be sleeping right now.
The three other archers sat astride their own horses, off to the side of the target.
Nolryn unhooked his bow from his shoulder, took a deep breath, and dug his heels into Mongrel’s flanks, causing the stallion to bolt off towards the cliff. Once he was sure he had his balance, the prince stood up in the stirrups and began loosing arrows at the target. He managed seven before he had to grip Mongrel’s reigns again and bring him to a slow trot.
Three arrows had hit middle red; the other four were in the next ring out.
“Not bad,” Gylepi called over his shoulder as he made his way to the start of the run, “You could probably have done one or two more though.”
The prince shrugged, yanking his arrows from the target and slipping them back into his quiver. “The shadow’s getting shorter,” he said in his defence, then urged Mongrel over to join the other two men on the sidelines.
“How do you do it?” Garuk asked him, watching Gylepi unsling his bow at the edge of the shadow.
“Do what?” The prince frowned, knowing he wasn’t talking about the target practice they’d set up—Garuk was the better of the four at this particular task.
“Publicity,” Garuk answered shortly.
Nol blinked, then shrugged noncommittally. “Just learn to deal with it, I guess.”
“But how?” the older archer persisted. “I’ve been dealing with it for twelve years and I’m no better than when I first got in.”
Nol braced his hands on the pommel of Mongrel’s saddle as he watched Gylepi thunder in. “You just have to… ignore what gets on your nerves. Somehow.” He shook his head in defeat. “I’m probably not the best person to ask. You’d do better to talk to one of the guys who hasn’t had to deal with it their whole life.”
“Already have,” Garuk lamented, “no help from them either.”
The prince slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about them. They’re only peasants.” He turned to where Gylepi was yanking his arrows from the target. “How many did you get?”
Gylepi shook his head ruefully, holding up seven arrows. “The shadow’s getting shorter,” he complained.
Nol folded his arms. “Do I dare say ‘I told you so’?”
Gylepi waved a warning arrow at him. “I’d advise against it,” he grinned.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ You know what? All mine. Again.
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration 31. Yep, that it is.
The early morning sunlight turned the desert a beautiful red-gold, striking against the pale, dusty sky. The shadows cast by the cliffs north of Ni-Yana were still long and would be for several hours yet, before the heat of the day struck and not even the gorge of the Ra-Lin would provide sufficient shade.
The four archers of the King’s Own often took the opportunity two or three times a week to do some more challenging archery training, much to the displeasure of Gylepi and Nolryn—they would both have preferred to spend those few hours dozing.
Nol glanced behind him as he rode Mongrel to the edge of the shadow. Stuck to the cliff wall was the painted wooden target the four of them had made for this purpose. It definitely provided more of a challenge than the archery range back at the palace, but he’d still prefer to be sleeping right now.
The three other archers sat astride their own horses, off to the side of the target.
Nolryn unhooked his bow from his shoulder, took a deep breath, and dug his heels into Mongrel’s flanks, causing the stallion to bolt off towards the cliff. Once he was sure he had his balance, the prince stood up in the stirrups and began loosing arrows at the target. He managed seven before he had to grip Mongrel’s reigns again and bring him to a slow trot.
Three arrows had hit middle red; the other four were in the next ring out.
“Not bad,” Gylepi called over his shoulder as he made his way to the start of the run, “You could probably have done one or two more though.”
The prince shrugged, yanking his arrows from the target and slipping them back into his quiver. “The shadow’s getting shorter,” he said in his defence, then urged Mongrel over to join the other two men on the sidelines.
“How do you do it?” Garuk asked him, watching Gylepi unsling his bow at the edge of the shadow.
“Do what?” The prince frowned, knowing he wasn’t talking about the target practice they’d set up—Garuk was the better of the four at this particular task.
“Publicity,” Garuk answered shortly.
Nol blinked, then shrugged noncommittally. “Just learn to deal with it, I guess.”
“But how?” the older archer persisted. “I’ve been dealing with it for twelve years and I’m no better than when I first got in.”
Nol braced his hands on the pommel of Mongrel’s saddle as he watched Gylepi thunder in. “You just have to… ignore what gets on your nerves. Somehow.” He shook his head in defeat. “I’m probably not the best person to ask. You’d do better to talk to one of the guys who hasn’t had to deal with it their whole life.”
“Already have,” Garuk lamented, “no help from them either.”
The prince slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about them. They’re only peasants.” He turned to where Gylepi was yanking his arrows from the target. “How many did you get?”
Gylepi shook his head ruefully, holding up seven arrows. “The shadow’s getting shorter,” he complained.
Nol folded his arms. “Do I dare say ‘I told you so’?”
Gylepi waved a warning arrow at him. “I’d advise against it,” he grinned.