Not Exactly William Tell...
“Yeah, it’s nothing to write home, about, really.”
I felt like recoiling, but I didn’t – my brain was way too busy thinking about how a tall guy can become short, without losing his legs – and about archery.
Was Cricket playing a trick, or did he know about my affinity to the bow and arrow?
Oh, well, I guess we’ll have to see.
Piccolo (he insisted I call him that) led me to the range, where Lin was already fumbling with an arrow.
I felt slightly triumphant; maybe I could finally do some showing off instead of Ms. Spoon over there.
I confidently strapped my vambrace to my hand, pleased to see that it was comfortable and supple against my skin.
The bow was well wrought, and Cricket seemed to want to taunt us; it wasn’t a modern bow – actually, both of them looked like they had just dropped out of ‘Lord of the Rings.’
“So, ladies, do I have to explain the rules?”
I was silent, but Lin wasn’t.
“I can’t do this!”
“Deal with it, dearest,” Cricket said, smiling.
Your time will come.