@codie-mohren Flick's Place
An arrow sails through the air, graceful, sleek, cutting the air with a whistle that, to the two standing at the head of the range, is louder than it might be to most. The arrowhead digs into the target, well off center, though still well on target. "Shiiit." Flick curses under her breath, before she scratches at the pulling pain in her side, Taylor's memento burning with the exertion.
She hasn't done this in years, but it's good therapy for the muscle and bone that's still injured from the attack last fall. "I have medals for this, you know. Rusty."
The girl, Codie, is new in the pack, and strange, but affable. This seems as good a sort of team-building as anything, and at a cool fifteen hundred for a couple of practice bows and some target blanks, not the most expensive way to burn an afternoon, either - plus, its making her remember hobbies she hasn't touched in years. She moves a bit closer to Codie. "You ever shoot a bow before? Hunting or anything?"