Lena
Lena couldn’t help the grimace flickering over her features as the arrow flew off, timed well with Mittens’ screech, and was just about ready to utter a hundred more apologies before the other simply said there was no need. Granting a frown at her companion, who was all the more inclined to scoff and hover nearby (perhaps even turning disdainfully away; much like an indignant cat), she mustered something beyond regrets. “Often,” she admitted with a slight smile. It wouldn't be the first time her bonded had caused some chaotic ruckus. “I’m Lena,” was an offering of introductions and greetings, so they weren’t simply standing awkwardly on a bridge, concerned over a snowball’s antics.
Her eyes then went to the lineup of targets – incapable of detecting whether they’d been maimed or marked; and if she noticed any discarded arrows, she didn’t say anything. “Are you decent with a bow?” She wouldn’t know; her chances with such weaponry were slim to none.
Her eyes then went to the lineup of targets – incapable of detecting whether they’d been maimed or marked; and if she noticed any discarded arrows, she didn’t say anything. “Are you decent with a bow?” She wouldn’t know; her chances with such weaponry were slim to none.
sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance
your choices outweigh your substance
