"Stance!" never was a command uttered in a voice more pleasant, the little boy hurried to place one foot steadily ahead, his rapid breathing filled with excitement.
"Nock!" the musical voice instructed, the little one carefully placing the arrow tip forward pressed above the wooden grip with the nock pressed against the string - his muscles were all tense to keep the arrow in place.
"Draw!" surely all eyes are on him so he dared not look around - he wanted to make them proud, his hands trembling as he draws back the string while still holding the arrow to it - he could feel his young muscles almost burning with the effort.
"Aim!" A moment more of waiting and his arrow would certainly slip, the little boy mustered every bit of strength he had, his heart pounding violently, barely able to hold the arrow towards the target - yearning for the voice to utter the last command.
"Loose!" like the first rain on an eager earth - so was the command a salvation to his little arms as he released the arrow, the pleasant "whoosh" miraculously erasing any trace of his so recent torment, almost forgetting to even check if he hit.
"Did I hit? did I hit?" he must check the target! his feet ready to carry him with boyish swiftness closer to the target to see if he hit, no! to see how his arrow pierced the target right at the center! just like dad's arcane archers!
A gentle yet firm hand holding him by the shoulder grounded both his feet and his fantasies of grandeur "Do not cross the shooting line until all had launched their arrows" a radiating and warm smile shining down upon him "You did very well" He beamed, his chest nigh bursting from pride as he already saw himself assured a place on the royal gua... "No he didn't!" came a squeaking protesting voice to rob him of his glory "Ary O'si*! He didn't even graze the target!" she accused, pulling the sleeve of their mother as if to bolster her claim.
"Youuuu! you!" Everyone said his sister had the voice of a Firre** but her voice reminded him more a band of drunken ogres trampled by a gold dragon! (as if he ever heard any of these, but he was still certain they sounded just like his sister), had the thought of ogres and dragons not hijacked his attention, he would've surely done something to regain his lost honor...
-------------------------------------------------------------- * "Ary O'si" = Noble mother , ** Firre - A type of eladrin who were devoted to art and music
Watching the river roam down below the elven warrior lets out a silent sigh
"It was certainly simpler back then".