callsignhawkeye
She anchored, narrowed one eye, stared down the arrow on the bow. Her shoulders were locked, strong and unwavering as she took aim and thenâŚshe just relaxed. She let her hand relax, the recurve bowstring left her hand, her fingers running under her jaw to land on her shoulder as it recoiled in her hand and the wrist sling caught the bow.
In the moment she was perfectly still, all she could hear was the birds going and the traffic down the other end of the street followed by a quiet thud as the arrow high the foam boss dead on target. This was her little snippit of peace in a world she didnât really belong in, it was the ten minutes of utter peace and quiet she got out of bed for.
  Curls of steam ascend from his mug.   They lick his chin and fill his nose as   he stands staring out the sliding doors.   The morning sun is just beginning to   claw its way up the horizon, and he takes   a gulp of coffee as he watches Kate.
  After a moment of observation, he slides   the door open and steps outside, into   the chilly hold of winter's morning. He   walks to the well-kept shed in the corner   of the yard and unlatches the lock.
"Can you shoot a compound?"














