[Well where's the loop of tree branches Byerly worked into a target before? Ah. That's what Prior aims for with the next shot, pressing a shoulder against Byerly until he moves to accomodate the change in direction. Not quite a wall so much as a revolving door.
This time Prior clips the target at the very edge. The dent is examined (he can't decide if he should be proud, but is.
And another. More guidance, careful positioning. This actually makes a hole roughly where it's supposed to, and it's like Robin Hood splitting his own arrow. Before the jungle has recovered from its shocked silence, Prior's taking the target from where it hangs and turning back to Byerly.]
A trophy! We can put it on the wall.
[Behind him the sounds of the deep undergrowth start again. Gurgling birdsong. Crickets. A low, rumbling sound and a shadow falling across the grass behind where Prior stands.]
no subject
This time Prior clips the target at the very edge. The dent is examined (he can't decide if he should be proud, but is.
And another. More guidance, careful positioning. This actually makes a hole roughly where it's supposed to, and it's like Robin Hood splitting his own arrow. Before the jungle has recovered from its shocked silence, Prior's taking the target from where it hangs and turning back to Byerly.]
A trophy! We can put it on the wall.
[Behind him the sounds of the deep undergrowth start again. Gurgling birdsong. Crickets. A low, rumbling sound and a shadow falling across the grass behind where Prior stands.]