Aurelia
and that the world is always our fault
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
Aurelia's smile wiggled into something more like unsurprised amusement at Melita's lackluster reaction. Of course, it was only the first arrow she'd shot. The next one might not be as steadfast against the target. In fact, Aurelia really doubted she'd land another shot like that with the training arrows - which was exactly why she had been pretty impressed with herself.
That was soon gone, though. Melita challenged her. In acceptance of it, her hand reached for the arrow being offered. But she waited, watched. Melita regained her form, the very same she'd taught Aurelia - except more poised, more confident; seasoned. She was fierce with the instrument, a promise made in the sing of her arrow as it went flying. Aurelia couldn't help but to watch in admiration.
She readied the arrow, knotching it onto the string, as she was told to try again. But before she brought the bow up to aim it and resume that distinct stance, she turned her face back to Melita.
"That's a pretty good depiction of him. Sunjata, right?" A smirk threatened to break out across her face. She was already aiming for it, the bow poised in her hands, strength coming from her core. She commented quietly, "I feel sorry for anyone that goes up against you."
Then, she steadied her hands, stilled her eyes, and let the arrow fly. Only, before she'd let go, one of her fingers had fumbled to regain its grip, interfering with the integrity and focus of her shot. She aimed a little too high, in result. Much to her chagrin, it went sizzling past the Sunjata dummy's head; a narrow miss.
"Damn," she muttered, frowning in disappointment as she relaxed. She glanced over at Melita, expecting to see her quite happy with herself for predicting this. Pre-emptively defending herself, Aurelia said, "It was close, at least."
That was soon gone, though. Melita challenged her. In acceptance of it, her hand reached for the arrow being offered. But she waited, watched. Melita regained her form, the very same she'd taught Aurelia - except more poised, more confident; seasoned. She was fierce with the instrument, a promise made in the sing of her arrow as it went flying. Aurelia couldn't help but to watch in admiration.
She readied the arrow, knotching it onto the string, as she was told to try again. But before she brought the bow up to aim it and resume that distinct stance, she turned her face back to Melita.
"That's a pretty good depiction of him. Sunjata, right?" A smirk threatened to break out across her face. She was already aiming for it, the bow poised in her hands, strength coming from her core. She commented quietly, "I feel sorry for anyone that goes up against you."
Then, she steadied her hands, stilled her eyes, and let the arrow fly. Only, before she'd let go, one of her fingers had fumbled to regain its grip, interfering with the integrity and focus of her shot. She aimed a little too high, in result. Much to her chagrin, it went sizzling past the Sunjata dummy's head; a narrow miss.
"Damn," she muttered, frowning in disappointment as she relaxed. She glanced over at Melita, expecting to see her quite happy with herself for predicting this. Pre-emptively defending herself, Aurelia said, "It was close, at least."
and I've been thinking that when we thought
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
