the bones you're made of [tom//cait]

xx scarr

From the tip of my arrow, a fire erupts.

A special concoction of tar and gasoline brings the world to life, thick black clouds swirling in front of my face. Last time I tried this little party trick, I’d set a target dummy on fire with an arrow shot straight through the eye. As punishment, I’d been banished to train outdoors. Something about a fire and safety hazard. Whatever, like they haven’t seen worse.

Ahead, a flag flies in front of me, inviting me to the challenge. A tiny square of red fabric, begging to be incinerated.

I breathe in the fumes, and I’m home.


Eyes closed,

arm bent,

held breath –

thud!

A body crashes into me, bumping my shoulder and sending my cocked arrow flying through the air on a wayward path.

The fire dies out before the arrow ever hits the ground.

I frown. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

But first –

we have company.

I turn around and take the boy in with calculating, assessing eyes. I stare at him, blinking slowly with annoyance scratched across my face. The smoke has dissipated by now; I can’t hide behind a mask forever.

“I hope you’re going to go get that for me.” I sigh, already resigned to the fact that no, of course he won’t, ‘cause if anything, it’s my own fault for letting myself be distracted.

I start to walk, pushing past the stranger harshly. Just returning the favour.

I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not.

“Honestly, you should know better than to get too close to fire.” I toss the words over my shoulder as I move in search of the missing arrow.