16th of Glade, Year 123 of Steel
Mistreach Keep, Kalzasi
"That's right," Indric coached calmly, the young Avialae holding her in a chaste, ultilitarian embrace as he touched her hear and there to correct her stance and grip. "Now, sight. Aim. Release."
Kala released her breath even as she released her arrow and it flew truly, hitting a respectable mark on the target. She hadn't even used a gust of aeromancy to correct her aim, though she had engaged her Rune of Semblance to feel in tune with the air around her, the space between her and the target, as well as the target, her bow, and the arrow itself. She didn't know if that was cheating, but it was how she related to the world anymore.
"Very good," he said, grinning. "Now I have to go over and check on the boys, but I'll tell them I have you drilling a few more shots..." He sighed. "But don't take too long a respite. I don't want to be the only one they wallop with big sticks."
She laughed. "Of course. Today, we will wallop them."
"From your mouth to... to..." They laughed together, and then she calmed herself to begin the repetition that would drill all this into her muscle memory. Indric began the short trek toward the other side of the training grounds where Kaus and Ceran were whirling about, impressing a small audience with their quarterstaff spar.
"Sight. Aim. Release."
When her repetitions were done, she examined the bow, deemed it fit for the next person, and put it back on the rack before she went to collect her arrows and stow them as well. She stretched her wings as well as the rest of her, then proceeded to followin Indric's footsteps. She wasn't jealous of Kaus' greater skill; all his skills served to protect her. But they were still competitive. They always had been, each other's whetstone. But whereas they had come up together with blades, she could sometimes get the better of him with daggers in her hands. With polearms, he had a much more decided advantage.