Post by Archer on Feb 12, 2017 22:25:00 GMT
I remember being a child. I used to live on the streets of Tondc with my mother, Mila.
She had an olive complexion, much like my own, only darker. Her hair was also black and always in a braid. The only real difference between our appearances was her green eyes. I have my father's brown ones.
Both of us wore rags and begged for coin.
Once I was old enough I would pickpocket. I was never that good at it.
That is until I met my father, Hamilton.
I had been stealing from him when he caught me in the act.
"You must be my boy, Archer." He had told me, laughter spilling from his mouth.
He was a pale man with a shaved head and many scars. He was a well respected Warrior who has since fallen in battle.
The man taught me many things, including how to fight and use weapons. He carved me a bow and arrows and took me hunting.
Hamilton wanted nothing to do with me when I was born, but he made up for it later on.
At first, I stole for my mother. Then, she became ill and our Healer could not help her. After she passed, I decided to steal for the benefit of the poor. I would put my skills to good use.
Now I'm crouched behind the bushes; watching my fellow Grounders travel down the trail. Many of them wear jewelry found off the corpses of Arkers and carry sacks of coin.
I settle back and watch; waiting for my chance to strike.
A light breeze blows back my dark hair, but I stay eerily still.
Grabbing an arrow, I ready my bow; pulling back the string.
Then, I let go.
The first Grounder falls to the ground; one hand on his chest as he does so.
I don't emerge, but wait for another chance to shoot.
@cleo