Stringing a bow

Whenever he was worried he strung his bow. It had been a long time since he had any news from her, so he strung it more and more often now.

He inspected the bow. It was old. He worried about it, how much longer would it last. He checked it carefully, using his eyes and his hands. There were fine lines, cracks, here and there and an infinitesimal separation between the heart wood and the sap wood, but it was in good shape. It would last a few more years yet.

It took him an hour to inspect the bow. He had to go over many sections more than once. He was distracted. He was worried.

Archers had to be calm to shoot straight. Other fighters could use their emotions, they could not allow their emotions to rule them, but they could use the energy and determination of their emotions to fuel their fighting. She used her emotions. She was like fire. He could not. He had to be calm. He had to be like a pool of water.

Yew sap contained a poison and when he had first made this bow it had burned his hands as he formed it, but now most of the poison was gone, or his hands were too calloused to be damaged any further. He always worried when he touched her skin that he would hurt her, his hands were so rough.

He was worried.

No news.

No letter.

No! No! No! No!

She was fine, he told himself. She was strong, and smart, and tough, and beautiful, and passionate, and she could take care of herself and everyone else for that matter. She was a woman now, not a girl that needed protection, she had never needed protection.

A dark frown furrowed his high brow. If she was hurt, if she was gone, he would make someone, everyone pay. He would tear this world apart, kill everyone, and everything, to save her.

The pain spread up from his hands into his arms and from there into his shoulders. It finally gained his attention. His hands were gripping the bow so furiously that they had begun to cramp.

He pulled himself back in, calmed himself. His face relaxed into its usual impassive mask.

A bow gained its power from tension. Part of the bow was compressed the other part was stretched. The two parts in opposition gave the bow its power and accuracy, while the whole appeared at rest.

Longshot began to inspect his bow again. Running his eyes and hands over every minute detail, missing nothing. He was inspecting it more and more these days.

The End




Disclaimer : “Avatar the Last Airbender” the characters and the world were created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko and owned by Nickelodeon and Viacom or Paramount or some huge corporation. This is purely a work of fan fiction because I wanted to play in their world and I love the characters that they created.