Post by Felicia Hf on May 26, 2016 7:56:59 GMT -6
Here is the rewritten scene:
The frightened yellow eyes of the hare that suddenly turned his way mirrored Aeolos’ only regarding the distinctive colour. His were fixed on the animal, intently focusing on any sudden movement. The string on his bow was pulled backwards, an arrow pointing directly at the hare.
Aeolos released the arrow just as the animal jumped to the side. He swore, immediately pulled another one from the quiver on his back, and chased after the hare through the dimly lit trees.
Dawn was always the best time for hunting, he believed, but lately the animals had scarcely shown themselves at all. His family needed a proper meal again soon, before they all starved to death. His father worked as a smith and there was always a copious amount of work, keeping him up from dawn to dusk, so the hunting fell to Aeolos.
Though he still lived with his parents, he had come of age the year before. As a gift, they had given him the bow he was now carrying. Along its lower limb, his name was carefully engraved in beautiful calligraphy.
Still running after the hare, Aeolos knew he would have to shoot the arrow soon. The animal would not stop until it was safely down a hole. He pulled the arrow back on the string, slowing down slightly to get a better shot. This time, it hit its mark and buried itself deep into the skin of the hare. He stopped running, catching his breath.
His sunflower-coloured hair, which as usual lay in a tangled mess on top of his head, now stuck to his forehead and mingled with the sweat. Aeolos was once again glad that there was a constant wind in Melyn, which now cooled his head.
Now that he had stopped running, he felt the stillness of the forest again. Listening intently, he suddenly thought he could hear screams carried across to him by the wind. He turned in the direction. They sounded inhumane, screams of pain and terror.
Aeolos picked the hare up by one of the hind legs and pulled the arrow out. He quickly wiped the bloody arrow dry on the fur of the animal, and slid it back into his quiver. Carrying both his bow and the hare, he hurried towards the sounds.
After walking for a few minutes, he thought there was a flicker up ahead. A strange colour gazed at him, where he had seen the movement. He was unsure whether he should continue walking, but then he suddenly realised that he was getting closer to his house. He was spurred forward again, partly by curiosity, and partly by a slight panic that was settling in his chest.
When he got a little closer, the trees suddenly parted, and he could see clearly what was going on. Flames were engulfing the remains of a house ahead of him. The panic turned into terror. This was his house.
He ran towards it, not even realising that he had dropped the hare in his wild panic to save his parents.
The frightened yellow eyes of the hare that suddenly turned his way mirrored Aeolos’ only regarding the distinctive colour. His were fixed on the animal, intently focusing on any sudden movement. The string on his bow was pulled backwards, an arrow pointing directly at the hare.
Aeolos released the arrow just as the animal jumped to the side. He swore, immediately pulled another one from the quiver on his back, and chased after the hare through the dimly lit trees.
Dawn was always the best time for hunting, he believed, but lately the animals had scarcely shown themselves at all. His family needed a proper meal again soon, before they all starved to death. His father worked as a smith and there was always a copious amount of work, keeping him up from dawn to dusk, so the hunting fell to Aeolos.
Though he still lived with his parents, he had come of age the year before. As a gift, they had given him the bow he was now carrying. Along its lower limb, his name was carefully engraved in beautiful calligraphy.
Still running after the hare, Aeolos knew he would have to shoot the arrow soon. The animal would not stop until it was safely down a hole. He pulled the arrow back on the string, slowing down slightly to get a better shot. This time, it hit its mark and buried itself deep into the skin of the hare. He stopped running, catching his breath.
His sunflower-coloured hair, which as usual lay in a tangled mess on top of his head, now stuck to his forehead and mingled with the sweat. Aeolos was once again glad that there was a constant wind in Melyn, which now cooled his head.
Now that he had stopped running, he felt the stillness of the forest again. Listening intently, he suddenly thought he could hear screams carried across to him by the wind. He turned in the direction. They sounded inhumane, screams of pain and terror.
Aeolos picked the hare up by one of the hind legs and pulled the arrow out. He quickly wiped the bloody arrow dry on the fur of the animal, and slid it back into his quiver. Carrying both his bow and the hare, he hurried towards the sounds.
After walking for a few minutes, he thought there was a flicker up ahead. A strange colour gazed at him, where he had seen the movement. He was unsure whether he should continue walking, but then he suddenly realised that he was getting closer to his house. He was spurred forward again, partly by curiosity, and partly by a slight panic that was settling in his chest.
When he got a little closer, the trees suddenly parted, and he could see clearly what was going on. Flames were engulfing the remains of a house ahead of him. The panic turned into terror. This was his house.
He ran towards it, not even realising that he had dropped the hare in his wild panic to save his parents.