- NATE -
Why you don't got any questions?
How you know that this is real?
How you know that this is real?
The corrections are accepted without question, Nate holding the pose for a moment, memorizing it, before snorting softly at the piece of advice. "Use my eye." Nate hummed, nodding his understanding, and mumbling "Which one?" under his breath, a joke he's not quite ready to commit to yet. Straightening out of the firing stance, he turned to watch the arrow Melita fired off, taking careful note of how exactly she moved, how she loosed the projectile, how it flew truly into it's target, the noise of it drowned out by an impressed whistle from Nate.
He can do that.
The offered arrow is accepted, the stance taken again, the mistakes Melita had corrected earlier kept in mind. It feels a little easier to get into the proper position, with the arrow actually in place. Nate aims, making a handful of small shifts, then goes still, save for the fingers that release the arrow. Though he needs no breath, there is still a moment of breathless anticipation as the bolt flies through the air, past the intended target on it's right side, a rather less impressive plink sounding as it landed on the ground. Shrugging upright again, Nate stared after his missed shot, defeat bowing his shoulders.
"Fuck." The word leaves him softly. "I'll get that." He offers, running to do just that, before returning to his niece's side, errant arrow now clutched tightly in hand.
He can do that.
The offered arrow is accepted, the stance taken again, the mistakes Melita had corrected earlier kept in mind. It feels a little easier to get into the proper position, with the arrow actually in place. Nate aims, making a handful of small shifts, then goes still, save for the fingers that release the arrow. Though he needs no breath, there is still a moment of breathless anticipation as the bolt flies through the air, past the intended target on it's right side, a rather less impressive plink sounding as it landed on the ground. Shrugging upright again, Nate stared after his missed shot, defeat bowing his shoulders.
"Fuck." The word leaves him softly. "I'll get that." He offers, running to do just that, before returning to his niece's side, errant arrow now clutched tightly in hand.
I am feeling such oppression
You can't tell me how to feel
You can't tell me how to feel
