She was confident and fierce, wild and wickedly mischievous as she set herself for the challenge he presented. She had fired at him and now it was her turn to face the onslaught, and she did so with grace and a steady eye, even if her hand was not as steady when faced with the barrage. He gave her the benefit of his trust, not holding back nor slowing down beyond the limits his newfound power and uncertain control over it forced on him, lashing out with clods of earth and mud to arc through the air in silent threat towards the fiery-haired honeybee girl and her wicked weapon.
The first was slightly off target, but only slightly. It struck the side of the target, burning through the soil of its body and beyond and Jigano let it drop to the ground, 'slain.' The second was the best of the lot, true and tested, Melita's equilibrium regained in spite of the unfamiliar speed with which she fired, aimed on instinct honed by years of hunting, launching, striking down her prey.
The third did not wait for her to breathe. It sped along behind its fallen brethren under its own momentum as it passed the thirty foot mark where Jigano's control ended, and continued along on inertia alone. The bard could only watch at that point, wincing as the final arrow wobbled astray by a hair's-breadth and left the clump of dastardly dirt to carry on, like a wayward son, towards its victim.
Luckily it was also heavy, and it dropped swiftly once beyond Jigano's reach. It would strike Melita's knee if she didn't dodge, spattering over fabric and boot as the bard winced and waved apologetically. "Do you want to take a break?" he called. "Or keep going? I've got the rest of the afternoon free if you want to keep practicing back and forth." Time he'd gladly spend with his young huntress friend, honing both their skills in the spring sunshine for as long as the weather and her interest held.
The first was slightly off target, but only slightly. It struck the side of the target, burning through the soil of its body and beyond and Jigano let it drop to the ground, 'slain.' The second was the best of the lot, true and tested, Melita's equilibrium regained in spite of the unfamiliar speed with which she fired, aimed on instinct honed by years of hunting, launching, striking down her prey.
The third did not wait for her to breathe. It sped along behind its fallen brethren under its own momentum as it passed the thirty foot mark where Jigano's control ended, and continued along on inertia alone. The bard could only watch at that point, wincing as the final arrow wobbled astray by a hair's-breadth and left the clump of dastardly dirt to carry on, like a wayward son, towards its victim.
Luckily it was also heavy, and it dropped swiftly once beyond Jigano's reach. It would strike Melita's knee if she didn't dodge, spattering over fabric and boot as the bard winced and waved apologetically. "Do you want to take a break?" he called. "Or keep going? I've got the rest of the afternoon free if you want to keep practicing back and forth." Time he'd gladly spend with his young huntress friend, honing both their skills in the spring sunshine for as long as the weather and her interest held.
