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 couldn't imagine having the thoughts and emotions of another creature leaking into her mind at random, or even at will. It was surprising to hear that a pumpkin had helped with something like that, but she let the conversation steer towards the bow. She'd leave those ponderings for later.
Aurelia tipped her head in a half-nod, a silent admittance that Melita was absolutely right. But, hey, at least she got to use the excuse before it was too late! At the instruction to take back the string, Melita went on to show her own example. Aurelia narrowed her eyes down at the string leading across the bow's length. She took it, swooped it in her two forefingers, and brought it back. She could feel the resilience and the strength of the instrument beneath her fingers as she did so, the pull that it gave against her. That, if she didn't follow Melita's guidance, would be snapping back against the arc of the weapon should she slacken at all.
Not to use the end of the bow, Aurelia blinked and stopped looking at it. Although, as she glanced over at Melita without turning her head, she realized that she was definitely missing something in her bow - that the other woman had. A flare of excitement jittered in her chest; she wanted to feel the give of the arrow beneath her fingertips, wanted to feel it rip through the air, to feel the satisfaction of it hitting its mark.
But Melita warned her against getting ahead of herself, about the risk of injury. She lowered the bow, slowly giving back to the pull of the string so that it didn't snap back against her (or the bow).
"Huh!?" a perplexed expression worked its way to her features, "You gotta at least let me try to shoot one. Come on, my stance is good!" She felt like a kid excited for a new game, ready to play, ready to join in with the others, but being told they had to go home right as it was getting fun. "Look, I can still remember every step without you telling me," she made a show of proving it, setting her weight into her feet, pulling her strength up from her legs and into her chest with a puff of the salty air, shifting her shoulders so that the blades were tucked back. She hooked her fingers around the string with prompt determination and pulled it back in one broad, steady stroke. Well, Melita was a good teacher - because Aurelia was feeling quite confident in her ability to at least fire the bow now. "And I have to be careful because it can injure me. It's a weapon and I should respect it," she repeated, adding on those last parts because it had definitely already been instilled in her when she was younger. She then corrected herself, "I do respect it."
Aurelia tipped her head in a half-nod, a silent admittance that Melita was absolutely right. But, hey, at least she got to use the excuse before it was too late! At the instruction to take back the string, Melita went on to show her own example. Aurelia narrowed her eyes down at the string leading across the bow's length. She took it, swooped it in her two forefingers, and brought it back. She could feel the resilience and the strength of the instrument beneath her fingers as she did so, the pull that it gave against her. That, if she didn't follow Melita's guidance, would be snapping back against the arc of the weapon should she slacken at all.
Not to use the end of the bow, Aurelia blinked and stopped looking at it. Although, as she glanced over at Melita without turning her head, she realized that she was definitely missing something in her bow - that the other woman had. A flare of excitement jittered in her chest; she wanted to feel the give of the arrow beneath her fingertips, wanted to feel it rip through the air, to feel the satisfaction of it hitting its mark.
But Melita warned her against getting ahead of herself, about the risk of injury. She lowered the bow, slowly giving back to the pull of the string so that it didn't snap back against her (or the bow).
"Huh!?" a perplexed expression worked its way to her features, "You gotta at least let me try to shoot one. Come on, my stance is good!" She felt like a kid excited for a new game, ready to play, ready to join in with the others, but being told they had to go home right as it was getting fun. "Look, I can still remember every step without you telling me," she made a show of proving it, setting her weight into her feet, pulling her strength up from her legs and into her chest with a puff of the salty air, shifting her shoulders so that the blades were tucked back. She hooked her fingers around the string with prompt determination and pulled it back in one broad, steady stroke. Well, Melita was a good teacher - because Aurelia was feeling quite confident in her ability to at least fire the bow now. "And I have to be careful because it can injure me. It's a weapon and I should respect it," she repeated, adding on those last parts because it had definitely already been instilled in her when she was younger. She then corrected herself, "I do respect it."
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
