Robyn and the Hoodettes #JustWriteIt #FreshStart

Chapter 24

Cold charcoal from the fire made an excellent crayon. Robyn drew a small circle on the trunk of a tree and colored it in, then she drew a larger circle around it, and another, until the curve of the trunk made it difficult to create any more circles with accuracy.

"Looks dead easy," Marion said.

"It's supposed to be." Robyn replied. "That's why it's called practice. We're going to start with this, and keep taking steps further and further back until we can't hit it any more. Then we'll move on to this." She pointed upwards. Marion followed the direction and saw a bag filled with mud and twigs, hanging from ropes.

This bag also had a charcoal target drawn on it, but the folds in the bag made the circles hard to make out.

"I'll tell you now, I don't have a hope of landing an arrow on that." Marion said.

Robyn couldn't hold back a smirk. "You have so many other things on your 'To do' list?"

"Point taken," Marion said, taking a look around.

They were in the Shire Wood, Sheffield was long behind them. They had food and temporary shelter, nobody chasing them down this very minute and they had nothing else to do.

"OK, so we start with the easy target on the tree?" He asked.

"You can stand as close as you like, get your eye in, then we can start moving further back."

For the next long while – neither of them kept track of time, but it felt like a good session – they took turns at the bow and arrow, aiming for the tree, either hitting the target or hitting very close to it. Most of the time they hit the tree, which saved them searching the forest for lost arrows.

Later, the tree becoming messy and oozing sap from its wounds, they moved on to the oat bag. Arrow after arrow whizzed through the air. Some hit, most missed.

That's what practice was for.

"You are amazing at this," Marion said as they stopped firing after another round and searched for lost arrows from the forest floor. "When did you learn to shoot?"

"Father taught me." Her shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. "A couple of springs ago. We caught rabbits in the Shire Wood and brought home the biggest feast you've ever seen."

"I remember that! There was so much food, the only place big enough to cook it all was the forge! My father was all grizzly about surrendering the smithy to cooking."

Robyn laughed at the memory. "He didn't complain about the food though."

"Too right." Marion licked his lips and his eyes drifted upwards as he recalled the memory. "Do you think we could catch some now?"

They were talking again, they were friends again. Marion wasn't making her feel hideous about how badly things had turned out in Sheffield. In fact, he'd been a total gentleman and hadn't mentioned it. Not once.

"Sure. How's your shoulder feeling?"

He rolled a shrug to get his arm moving again. "Nothing a bit of roast rabbit can't fix."

"Let's get one then."

They collected oats first to use as bait, then found a clearing near the stream and made sure they stayed down wind so they wouldn't be sniffed out. They also stayed as quiet as possible so they wouldn't be heard.

Clever things rabbits, they could hear for miles around on account of those massive ears.

After an age of waiting, the only animals that took the bait were pigeons.