Target Practice
> starter for: @asphuxia
Gloved palms planted firmly on the ground in front of his boots, Inigo breathes in, holding for a count of seven. Slowly he exhales, rolling his spine up vertebrae by vertebrae until he’s standing tall once again.
What a delightful sport the school created! It’s been too long since he last practiced with a bow; no better way to pick it back up than with a friendly competition. He promised himself he wouldn’t get too caught up in the spirit of it all.
Arms extend above his head, back arching slightly, giving him the opportunity to examine his surroundings. The boundary for his team extends through a group of trees, disappearing into the next small clearing. Should be a piece of cake to win, especially given how…intense his teammate looks.
They’d been randomly paired together, names drawn out of a hat from the sign-up sheet. Eir, she’d said during their brief introductions. Stretches done, Inigo wanders back to her side, picking up the bow and quiver he’d left leaning against a tree.
“Ready to win, Eir?” He teases, bright grin blooming across his features. There’s a sadness hiding behind her grey eyes—Inigo has made it his goal to get her to smile today. “No one could stand to hunt such a lovely lady as yourself!”
The compliment sounds a bit thick to his own ears; he busies himself looping the quiver strap across his chest.
