Adelaide Jade Regent
The whistling arrow
Contrary to popular belief, Shalelu has become quite fond of Athebryn’s cooking. While it may be a bit odd every now and again, it’s generally tasty, and a lot better than charred rabbit, charred eel and charred berries. Shay does like to get a bit of a preview though, and when she can, she sneaks in a taste, just incase she needs to have charred something for tea instead.
Athebryn, the gossip bloated gnome, has caught whiff of this and is waiting stealthily in the trees. As Shalelu takes the colourful ladle and dips it in the stew ready for a quick checker, out of no where a blunt arrow smacks her hand. She drops the ladle and a welt begins to form on her hand.
“Uh oh” she hears from the trees as she swiftly lifts her bow with her own blunt arrow and shoots it at the bard, bearing with the pain in her hand. The bard vanishes.
Typical, he’s got some trick up his sleeves again, but lucky for Shay, he has trouble being quiet. She sneaks into the woods and loads up a few more arrows, she shoots, he disappears again, but this time he reappears where she can see him. Having accepted his fate, she lifts her bow, with multiple arrows loaded, and a slight smirk. Athebryn’s face goes serious and she sees his eyes focus as he draws his own bow, pulling out an oversized arrow. It wobbles as he loads it up, but his face remains steadfast, intent… near on respectable.
Shay lobs off three arrows at once, Athebryn stretches as far as his little arms will go and releases the encumbered arrow, a high pitched whistle follows through the air as it bumbles its way through the barrage, knocking them down and finally landing softly at Shay’s feet.
She looks up at Athebryn who is now pointing to the arrow.
Shalelu picks it up; it has a very large blunt head, with 3 holes spiralling through it. The holes must have made the whistling noise. It’s a bit heavy on the front end because of this won’t shoot that far. It is very ornate, the tail feathers are green like leaves and the stem looks like two woven vines, almost as if it were grown rather than crafted.
She picks it up and instantly rekonises the size, it’s made for her bow. A gift.
Athebryn slumps his way down the tree now he believes he is safe; he has a lot of trouble, it looks like he’s wearing his mother’s shoes, if he were a human child that is. As he trudged closer, Shay realises the oversized shoes are Luthian’s boots.
“Don’t tell me, whether she lent them to you, or u stole them, I don’t know which is worse.” Athebryn smiles and starts walking back to camp, Shalelu follows.
“I thought you might like the singing arrow; it’s your love of whistles and arrows birthed together; I worked on it while in the icy land of boredom.”
Shay tries to think of the right words to say, but as she watches him struggling in her sister’s shoes she just finds herself too annoyed for cohesive thought.
“You didn’t bring your own shoes?” Athebryn shakes his head, “… get on, but tell no one.” Athebryn with great delight jumps up on Shelalu’s back, holding in a ‘giddy up’ with all his might.
As they near the camp Shalelu tries again at saying thankyou, “When you wield your bow… You…look almost respectable.”
Athebryn is happy enough with the attempt and as she comes to a halt he clicks his heels and disappears.
Infuriated Shelalu just carried him for no reason she scans for her prey, locks on to her target, dips her hand in the quivver… only to pull out the whistling arrow. She sighs as the looks at the workmanship, puts it back.
Shelalu thinks for a second before taking her next action; she loudly stomps over to the almost-done-stew, taking a big ladle full and announcing “Yum!” in Athebryn’s general direction as angrily chomps it down, when she is done she storms back out the woods, deafening the wildlife with her new arrow.