[Yes, I’m reviving this. And I’ll probably not even get the 3rd chapter done before I quit again. But oh well, I just fail that way.]
[This chapter, now that I’ve reread it, seems really random… but it’s supposed to be that way. It’s a setting-chapter. So it kinda sucks to read. Ah well.]
Chapter 2
The twang of the bowstring
The zip of the shaft
The thud of an arrow hitting its mark:
Sounds made by the archlings
As they practice their craft,
Commencing at dawn, not stopping till dark.
From below, from up high,
In fire and in ice,
With the breath of the wind in their flight,
Our arrows shall fly,
True and precise,
Whether morning, midday, dusk, or night.