I had demonstrated shooting from under a shield, standing, sitting, squatting, kneeling, and sitting on horseback. They didn't give me the gold ribbon of merit for nothing. Then there's the thumb draw which I like, but you see,' Stryngpool showed Templer the small leather loop fastened on the cord of his bow, 'You need to have one of these thingies or you'll tear your thumb right off.' There are three types of draw, three-fingers, thumb and index, thumb and two fingers. 'I'm sorry, but I can't in good faith send you back to the army without a little new wisdom. If he was angry about his family losing their land, why couldn't he just say it? Why did he come back to the valley at all? He watched Templer nock his first arrow, taking aim at a target, and coughed. Stryngpool began to feel annoyed by his old friend. I'm supposed to join my unit this evening.' 'I should tell you, I won't be able to make an afternoon of this. 'The untightened loop is supposed to look like an X in an O. 'If that's how they taught you to string your bow, you need some advisors from the academy in that army of yours,' said Stryngpool as gently as he could. It was a sad, weathered utensil, bound together with strips of fabric. He looked over at Templer stringing his bow, and felt a twinge of pity. It was a beautiful piece of art, darkest ebony and spun silver filigrees, hand-crafted for him in Wayrest. Especially as there was fertile ground beneath.' There was some discussion I think about keeping your old house up, but it seemed a little sentimental. 'My family's rather spread out since yours left. A lot's changed, I could hardly recognize anything at all.' Templer looked down at the valley below, to the vast empty tilled ground, stretching out for miles around. My unit's camped a few miles east, and I thought I'd visit the old haunts. 'My parents said you got here a week ago?' I've only been back in town for a few days.' said Stryngpool with a smile. 'You've been practicing,' observed Templer. Burlap targets were arranged around in a semi-circle, several meters apart, like sentinels. The clearing opened up before them, where the mist settled on the grass, enveloping it in an opaque, chilly vapor. Silly, but I hope the peasants are impressed.' I suppose you can actually see it through the picture window.

'Oh yes, I nearly forgot that the family's put it in the Great Hall. Did I you see I got a gold ribbon of merit in archery?' At least not until I collect my inheritance. It's obvious they wish I'd come back from the academy, but there's nothing much for me here. I know I can't offend you, but I have to say, it's hard to believe that you ended up a soldier.' 'I thought so,' said Stryngpool and laughed: 'I remember it because you used to run down it every time you got a bloody nose. Templer glanced at the overgrowth and nodded, before continuing on. 'This is the path that used to lead to your house, isn't it, old boy?' asked Stryngpool. They each carried their bows and quivers with extra care as they maneuvered their way through the clusters of vine and branch. He was much quieter, as if scarred within as well as without. Stryngpool had a handsome blond moustache now, stiffened and spiked with wax, and Templer seemed to be a completely alien creature to the young lad who searched for adventure in the ancient grove. The trees had changed little even if they had. Neither had been back in High Rock, let alone in their favorite woods for four years. In that early springtime morning, pale sunlight flickered behind the morning mist floating through the trees as Templer and Stryngpool made their way to the clearing.

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