Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
A dutiful instructor, however well that may be or seem, resting her hands along her bow planted in the earth, she was silent as he took his shot. The honeybee girl had no expectations, not with the distance measured and calculated, meant to be significantly more challenging, nodding at his promises, at his humor, at the dedication immersed. Nate had been far more willing to try than most, not entirely bogged down by inexperience, mettle and determination forged amidst brows, and whatever else had been etched, sketched, sculpted into his existence.
He manifested the same techniques as before, and was able to produce adequate results. Melita was impressed he’d even hit the target, let alone measured up to a certain standard along the wood. No longer maintaining her serious countenance, she permitted an effervescent beam of a smile to glimpse along her lips. “Very nice. How does that feel?” Triumphant? Successful?
Then she wandered out, needing to maneuver, to move, as the restless coils curled within her limbs, intending to grab hold of both arrows, replaced and replenished – the electric one for her quiver, the training boundaries for Nate. Upon her return, she extended the weapon back out to him, her bow now safely ensconced, tucked away, in the bracelet on her wrist. “I expect you to keep practicing while I’m gone. No slacking off.” The grin turned into a smirk, wild and nefarious, every bit as untamed as the rest of the scorching earth. “Keep doing it just the way I taught you, and you should be able to take your enemies down.” Whomever that happened to be now.
He manifested the same techniques as before, and was able to produce adequate results. Melita was impressed he’d even hit the target, let alone measured up to a certain standard along the wood. No longer maintaining her serious countenance, she permitted an effervescent beam of a smile to glimpse along her lips. “Very nice. How does that feel?” Triumphant? Successful?
Then she wandered out, needing to maneuver, to move, as the restless coils curled within her limbs, intending to grab hold of both arrows, replaced and replenished – the electric one for her quiver, the training boundaries for Nate. Upon her return, she extended the weapon back out to him, her bow now safely ensconced, tucked away, in the bracelet on her wrist. “I expect you to keep practicing while I’m gone. No slacking off.” The grin turned into a smirk, wild and nefarious, every bit as untamed as the rest of the scorching earth. “Keep doing it just the way I taught you, and you should be able to take your enemies down.” Whomever that happened to be now.
Melita
