Originally intended for Zombz's Dare
Vanilla #5. Friendly Competition with Whipped Cream and Sprinkles
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1244
Word Count : 521
Terrel pulled back on his bowstring and loosed it with a sharp twang. The arrow flew in a swift arc across the courtyard, impaling itself, with a heavy thump, into the target, just a hand’s breadth from the bulls eye. Dalton shifted his feet and cast his eyes to the ungainly weapon that dangled from his own hands.
Harmon stood behind them, the beneficiary of a recent growth spurt that brought him towering over his younger brothers. He held his arms firmly folded across his chest and his jaw clamped shut, as if to show approval would be to stoop too low. Undaunted by his brother’s lack of reaction, Terrel swaggered past him, a cocky grin plastered across his face. Swinging the bow with one hand, he landed a punch on Dalton’s arm with the other.
“Your turn, kid.” Dalton glared at his brother, wondering just when it was that three years became such a significant gap. He turned the bow over slowly in his hands, opening and closing his fingers around the smooth wood.
“Well?” said Harmon, still expressionless.
Dalton sighed and bent to pick an arrow from the bucket at his feet. He brought the bow up in one hand, and laid the arrow against it with the other. Frowning, he turned the thing clumsily about until satisfied that the fletching fit against the string. He closed an eye and squinted the other as hard as he could at the target, adjusting his grip as the bow grew slick against his palm.
There was an exaggeratedly loud yawn from behind him and Dalton shot Terrel a dark look. The older boy merely grinned. Peering over Terrel’s head at his youngest brother, Harmon cleared his throat.
Dalton righted the bow and cocked the arrow once more. The tip bobbed in and out of focus as he sighted the target across the yard. He gave the string a pull and the arrow flew from his grasp. He winced as it thudded into the outer ring.
“No, no, no.” Harmon’s calm finally broke. Dalton cringed, eyes on his shoes, as his brother relieved him of his bow.
“Like this.” He lifted the weapon and took aim.
An elbow struck him in the ribs and Dalton looked up to find Terrel grinning at him. The older boy glanced at Harmon, a finger laid over his lips. Dalton quirked a brow but said nothing. As Harmon drew on the bowstring, Terrel rose on his toes and craned his neck up over his shoulder, his lips hovering near his ear.
Still grinning as he teetered on the balls of his feet, Terrel puffed his cheeks and blew. Harmon flinched and let loose of the arrow, which went sailing over the target and into the bushes.
Fist clenched around the shaft of the bow, Harmon rounded on Terrel, who had settled back on his heels, the most innocent look he could muster plastered across his face. “Very funny,” said Harmon, through clenched teeth, as he stooped to fetch another arrow.
“What?” said Terrel, casually dragging a foot through the grass while Dalton tried not to laugh.
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1244
Word Count : 521
Terrel pulled back on his bowstring and loosed it with a sharp twang. The arrow flew in a swift arc across the courtyard, impaling itself, with a heavy thump, into the target, just a hand’s breadth from the bulls eye. Dalton shifted his feet and cast his eyes to the ungainly weapon that dangled from his own hands.
Harmon stood behind them, the beneficiary of a recent growth spurt that brought him towering over his younger brothers. He held his arms firmly folded across his chest and his jaw clamped shut, as if to show approval would be to stoop too low. Undaunted by his brother’s lack of reaction, Terrel swaggered past him, a cocky grin plastered across his face. Swinging the bow with one hand, he landed a punch on Dalton’s arm with the other.
“Your turn, kid.” Dalton glared at his brother, wondering just when it was that three years became such a significant gap. He turned the bow over slowly in his hands, opening and closing his fingers around the smooth wood.
“Well?” said Harmon, still expressionless.
Dalton sighed and bent to pick an arrow from the bucket at his feet. He brought the bow up in one hand, and laid the arrow against it with the other. Frowning, he turned the thing clumsily about until satisfied that the fletching fit against the string. He closed an eye and squinted the other as hard as he could at the target, adjusting his grip as the bow grew slick against his palm.
There was an exaggeratedly loud yawn from behind him and Dalton shot Terrel a dark look. The older boy merely grinned. Peering over Terrel’s head at his youngest brother, Harmon cleared his throat.
Dalton righted the bow and cocked the arrow once more. The tip bobbed in and out of focus as he sighted the target across the yard. He gave the string a pull and the arrow flew from his grasp. He winced as it thudded into the outer ring.
“No, no, no.” Harmon’s calm finally broke. Dalton cringed, eyes on his shoes, as his brother relieved him of his bow.
“Like this.” He lifted the weapon and took aim.
An elbow struck him in the ribs and Dalton looked up to find Terrel grinning at him. The older boy glanced at Harmon, a finger laid over his lips. Dalton quirked a brow but said nothing. As Harmon drew on the bowstring, Terrel rose on his toes and craned his neck up over his shoulder, his lips hovering near his ear.
Still grinning as he teetered on the balls of his feet, Terrel puffed his cheeks and blew. Harmon flinched and let loose of the arrow, which went sailing over the target and into the bushes.
Fist clenched around the shaft of the bow, Harmon rounded on Terrel, who had settled back on his heels, the most innocent look he could muster plastered across his face. “Very funny,” said Harmon, through clenched teeth, as he stooped to fetch another arrow.
“What?” said Terrel, casually dragging a foot through the grass while Dalton tried not to laugh.