It's too much to bear my darlin', the weight of the world
And I would carry it for you
The hunter's face darkened as his son argued and complained, but he didn't say anything. Noah rocked back on his heels and waited patiently, mirroring Marcus' breathing. He focused his own eyes on the youngling's arrow, trying to determine where it would hit, only to be disappointed just as his son when it sunk into the frost-kissed dirt.
"It's okay. Go grab your arrows." Noah said, brows knitting together in thought but his voice staying soft and even. When Marcus handed it to him, Noah took his bow. He laid it in his palm and felt its weight. It was balanced. As his son walked out onto the range to collect the arrows, Noah stood and inspected the bow further. Nothing was wrong with it. It was straight where it needed to be, curved where else, and perfectly smooth without structure cracking.
"Okay, so I know we practiced holding the bow in this position," Noah demonstrated as Marcus plopped the arrows tip down in the ground quiver, "but I think we will try the opposite." He said, switching to show his son what he meant.
"It's okay. Go grab your arrows." Noah said, brows knitting together in thought but his voice staying soft and even. When Marcus handed it to him, Noah took his bow. He laid it in his palm and felt its weight. It was balanced. As his son walked out onto the range to collect the arrows, Noah stood and inspected the bow further. Nothing was wrong with it. It was straight where it needed to be, curved where else, and perfectly smooth without structure cracking.
"Okay, so I know we practiced holding the bow in this position," Noah demonstrated as Marcus plopped the arrows tip down in the ground quiver, "but I think we will try the opposite." He said, switching to show his son what he meant.
