Lisbeth looked up at the perched acorn. It was a hell of a shot. She thought she could do it, but something so small made her hesitate.
"If the arrow goes flying wide, it could land anywhere," she said, looking around the park. Shooting up that high from this angle would give the arrow a very broad radius of possible landing places. She preferred shooting straight at targets, or at high targets that were pinned to a wall, so that a stray arrow couldn't cause any havoc.
She sighed, drawing an arrow. She had to take the challenge. Morana would never let her live it down if she didn't.
She aimed down the length of the arrow. The acorn was barely a speck in her vision. She couldn't see it well enough to aim properly. So she ignored the acorn, instead looking at the length of the statue's sword. The tip of the sword was no harder to hit than a target's bullseye, really.
She held her breath. Kept her aim steady. Focused her entire being on that point at the tip of the blade.
She let the arrow fly. It streaked through the air, then bounced off the tip of the blade. The acorn, undamaged, still fell to the ground, bouncing off the stone walkway around the statue.
"That counts," she said. She might not have hit the acorn itself, but she had hit close enough that, in a combat situation, such a shot aimed at an enemy's heart would still have been fatal.
"If the arrow goes flying wide, it could land anywhere," she said, looking around the park. Shooting up that high from this angle would give the arrow a very broad radius of possible landing places. She preferred shooting straight at targets, or at high targets that were pinned to a wall, so that a stray arrow couldn't cause any havoc.
She sighed, drawing an arrow. She had to take the challenge. Morana would never let her live it down if she didn't.
She aimed down the length of the arrow. The acorn was barely a speck in her vision. She couldn't see it well enough to aim properly. So she ignored the acorn, instead looking at the length of the statue's sword. The tip of the sword was no harder to hit than a target's bullseye, really.
She held her breath. Kept her aim steady. Focused her entire being on that point at the tip of the blade.
She let the arrow fly. It streaked through the air, then bounced off the tip of the blade. The acorn, undamaged, still fell to the ground, bouncing off the stone walkway around the statue.
"That counts," she said. She might not have hit the acorn itself, but she had hit close enough that, in a combat situation, such a shot aimed at an enemy's heart would still have been fatal.
