The Archers Daughter
In the beginning... "Now...be careful where you shoot. Try shooting his head or heart, if not he can still run away." My fathers voice tickled my ear. "Take a deep breath, and shoot when you're ready." He explained. I held the bow in my tiny hands, and though it was a little too big for me, father insisted on teaching me early. Mother didn't like the idea if it, but I was excited! I was only six years old, my black hair was in a pixie cut, icy blue eyes trained on the target that was about 20 feet in front of me. My father stood behind me, coaching how I aimed. Mother was probably inside watching with wary eyes. I took a deep breath, just like daddy said, and let the arrow fly.