"Wow." Lisbeth reached out to touch the coat, then pulled back. A divine gift such as that was a precious thing. She could only dream of one day being granted such a gift.
"Peaches," she said with a nod. "I'll try that. I don't think they grow up here, but I can probably find a merchant that brings them in from Torchline or something." She didn't really go into the market that often--the army provided her with food and clothing, and she didn't need much else. But it was certainly worth a try.
She was distracted from her thoughts by the woman's continual mediocre archery skills. She shook her head with a sigh. "You're pulling back when you release. Let the bow do the work. Here."
She stepped up behind the taller woman, barely reaching her shoulder. She waited for her to draw the bowstring, then said, "Hold it there." She touched a hand to the small of the woman's back, silently guiding her to adjust her posture. Then she stepped to the other side and reached her arm around so that her fingers rested on the bowstring just above the stranger's.
"Don't pull," she whispered close to the woman's ear. "Release."
She guided the woman's fingers to simply slip from the bow, then she drew their hands back to her cheek. The arrow flew straighter and more true, guided by the force of the bow string alone.
"See?" She looked up and met the woman's eyes. Then her face turned pink and she took a step back.
"Err, I'm Lisbeth, by the way."
"Peaches," she said with a nod. "I'll try that. I don't think they grow up here, but I can probably find a merchant that brings them in from Torchline or something." She didn't really go into the market that often--the army provided her with food and clothing, and she didn't need much else. But it was certainly worth a try.
She was distracted from her thoughts by the woman's continual mediocre archery skills. She shook her head with a sigh. "You're pulling back when you release. Let the bow do the work. Here."
She stepped up behind the taller woman, barely reaching her shoulder. She waited for her to draw the bowstring, then said, "Hold it there." She touched a hand to the small of the woman's back, silently guiding her to adjust her posture. Then she stepped to the other side and reached her arm around so that her fingers rested on the bowstring just above the stranger's.
"Don't pull," she whispered close to the woman's ear. "Release."
She guided the woman's fingers to simply slip from the bow, then she drew their hands back to her cheek. The arrow flew straighter and more true, guided by the force of the bow string alone.
"See?" She looked up and met the woman's eyes. Then her face turned pink and she took a step back.
"Err, I'm Lisbeth, by the way."
