EVIE
Deimos' impressed whistle only helps bolster her spirits higher after she realizes she has hit nearly dead center. It feels like vindication, pride swelling in her breast until it feels like bubbles will start pouring up her throat. They're difficult to swallow down, but she does so despite the loony grin on her face. Can't let it go too far to her head after all, no matter how tempting.
There is still more yet to do after all. Evie certainly isn't expecting Deimos to go easy on them, even if Weaver has nearly obliterated her foot with her own arrow. As they progress onto moving targets her pulse thuds hard, worried that she will fail here when it feels the most important. Her fingers tremble slightly as she gauges the height and speed as Deimos tosses it up, only releasing when she feels it's the right time. Still far different from her throwing daggers, but she hopes it's enough to translate across weapons.
There is still more yet to do after all. Evie certainly isn't expecting Deimos to go easy on them, even if Weaver has nearly obliterated her foot with her own arrow. As they progress onto moving targets her pulse thuds hard, worried that she will fail here when it feels the most important. Her fingers tremble slightly as she gauges the height and speed as Deimos tosses it up, only releasing when she feels it's the right time. Still far different from her throwing daggers, but she hopes it's enough to translate across weapons.
