Be sure you're hitting the inside of the cup Zane...
Grayell laid back and watched the clouds as he continued, lazily flicking the stick this way and that. He was starting to get hungry though and the quicker Zane finished the sooner they would eat.
He continues his work, not pausing for talk anymore. As the sun moves through the sky, and the shadows start to get longer, Zane finally draws to a close
Grayell sits up and unties the string. He then gets to his feet, dusting himself off. He picks up the bamboo fishing spear he'd manufactured and grinned.
I think you're doing very well. Meanwhile, it's time we went fishing.
Grayell said nothing until the reached the river. There, on it's bank, Grayell leaned on his spear and looked at Zane.
This won't put you to sleep. Strip down Zane, you're about to get very wet.
Grayell laid his spear down and removed his clothing except for his last layer, leaving him almost naked. He strode into the water then, spear in one hand. He was looking for something and motioned for Zane to follow.
Zane looks at Grayell really funnily and then strips to his shorts. Leaving his clothes in a pile where they wouldn't get too wet, Zane walks out and stands next to Grayell
Grayell looks at him without moving his head and then back to the water.
You weren't born with clothes on Zane. You won't always have them either. Just your sword if you're lucky.
He shot him a smile but his eyes were still searching the waters, piercing the ebb and flow as it rushed around them. Suddenly Grayell froze. He stood rigid, like a mantis on a leaf.... and with a flick of his arm shot his spear into the water. He pulled it out with both hands, a decent fish flapping on the end.
Dinner. For me anyways. You think you can do that?
Zane stands in the middle of the river and relaxes, watching the fish pass. He tries stabbing them a few times, but the water distorted his perception and he missed horribly the first few times.
... that and there weren't as many fish as he'd hoped. At times he would be forced to looking for them, or waiting for countless minutes, waiting for one to come near. And they were quick.
Zane spends several hours looking for fish and missing them, getting only a glancing blow here or there. Slowly he figured out how much the water was distorting his jabs, and when he began taking that into account, he only had to deal with the swiftness of the fish.
And that would prove difficult. Very difficult. And continuing into the night was not going to make it entirely possible. Perhaps there was something more to this....
Zane stands still and thinks back to how Grayell had done it. Leaving the river for a moment, he takes a rock to the end of his stick, and fashions a very rough point at the tip. He then returns to it and focuses, doing his best to drive it down and catch a fish much in the same manner as Grayell had
Zane doesn't do very well sharpening a stick with a rock. Grayell had picked a hardwood, something that was durable and would last throughout his training. He scuffed it up a bit though and went back to the river.
Turns out a sharper point did not make him any more sneaky, or quicker though. Those fish just seemed to know when he was going to stab at them.
Last Edit: Sept 4, 2011 21:39:37 GMT -5 by Grayell