“Aah!” An arrow soars right in front of me, barely missing my foot. Why would someone disturb the archery range like that? This is supposed to be a peaceful place to practice in the woods.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The shooter approaches me, a tall pale guy with black hair and a sneer.
“Watch where you’re shooting! This is a private practice area for the archery tournament,” I shout back. Ugh, I don’t have the time for this right now.
“It’s not my fault that you were in the way. And I’m part of the tournament, obviously.” He glares at me.
“Who even are you? Do I know you?” I can’t put my finger on it, but it seems like I do.
“Trust me, I would remember meeting someone like you. I’m a student here, and you?” He frowns.
“You’re an archer?” I ask, astonished. “Where do you even get your ‘skills?’” I sneer. I really don’t have time to bicker. Go away, Mr. Stuck Up. I have to practice and win this tournament.
“I get them where everyone else does, and you didn’t answer my question. I’m sure you suck compared to me, so why don’t you show me what you’re made of?” he snarls.
Okay, well now he's done it. He threatened me about archery. I am going to take this guy down. You’ve made a grave mistake messing with Eleanor Freeman. I have the best hand-eye coordination you’ve ever seen. I’ve been doing archery my whole life.
“Fine, I will. I’m gonna make you wish you’d never picked up a bow.” I grab my bow and arrow and shoot from thirty meters away: bullseye, without even looking. I’d been practicing here for years, so my arms just do the job for me.
“Uh huh,” he says, “is that the best you got? Let's try a longer distance, noob.” He scoffs and shoots an arrow from fifty meters away. Bullseye as well.
“I can do better,” I snarl and shoot again, this time from seventy meters away. Bullseye again.
“Oh yeah? Try to beat this.” He shoots again from a hundred meters away. Bullseye.
“A hundred meters? How is that even possible?” I got defeated, how?
He scoffs. “It’s possible for an experienced archer, and you’re lamer than I thought. Better be ready next time, Freeman.” He walks away.
I hate this dude! Why does he gotta be so stuck up? Jeez, I definitely do not want to see that guy again. And how in the world did he know my last name? And who is he? Gods, why do I keep meeting annoying people? Guess I gotta practice some more, especially if he’s in this competition. Darn it.
I grab my backpack and go back home with so many unanswered questions.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The shooter approaches me, a tall pale guy with black hair and a sneer.
“Watch where you’re shooting! This is a private practice area for the archery tournament,” I shout back. Ugh, I don’t have the time for this right now.
“It’s not my fault that you were in the way. And I’m part of the tournament, obviously.” He glares at me.
“Who even are you? Do I know you?” I can’t put my finger on it, but it seems like I do.
“Trust me, I would remember meeting someone like you. I’m a student here, and you?” He frowns.
“You’re an archer?” I ask, astonished. “Where do you even get your ‘skills?’” I sneer. I really don’t have time to bicker. Go away, Mr. Stuck Up. I have to practice and win this tournament.
“I get them where everyone else does, and you didn’t answer my question. I’m sure you suck compared to me, so why don’t you show me what you’re made of?” he snarls.
Okay, well now he's done it. He threatened me about archery. I am going to take this guy down. You’ve made a grave mistake messing with Eleanor Freeman. I have the best hand-eye coordination you’ve ever seen. I’ve been doing archery my whole life.
“Fine, I will. I’m gonna make you wish you’d never picked up a bow.” I grab my bow and arrow and shoot from thirty meters away: bullseye, without even looking. I’d been practicing here for years, so my arms just do the job for me.
“Uh huh,” he says, “is that the best you got? Let's try a longer distance, noob.” He scoffs and shoots an arrow from fifty meters away. Bullseye as well.
“I can do better,” I snarl and shoot again, this time from seventy meters away. Bullseye again.
“Oh yeah? Try to beat this.” He shoots again from a hundred meters away. Bullseye.
“A hundred meters? How is that even possible?” I got defeated, how?
He scoffs. “It’s possible for an experienced archer, and you’re lamer than I thought. Better be ready next time, Freeman.” He walks away.
I hate this dude! Why does he gotta be so stuck up? Jeez, I definitely do not want to see that guy again. And how in the world did he know my last name? And who is he? Gods, why do I keep meeting annoying people? Guess I gotta practice some more, especially if he’s in this competition. Darn it.
I grab my backpack and go back home with so many unanswered questions.