Competition: Knife Throwing [2038 Seahold Summer Gather]

Even with the move to the South, Gathers are still a thing to look forward to, though in the Walled Hold they appear to be called Festivals instead. Either way, Gathers and Festivals are a time of fun to enjoy when they come around.

Sun Aug 16, 2015 4:28 am

Tag: Mansa

Drekar could help but give an upwards twitch of his lips as his knife threw true, the truest of all the competetors for the second time in a row. He allowed the moment of pride for the briefest of seconds before hastily quelling his thoughts, mentally chastising himself. Pride would make him overconfident, and thus stupid, and he would be a worse knife thrower for it. Anyways, he had enough of a fanfare already, with two bellowing whers in his head. They provided all the pride Drekar wouldn't allow himself to feel, and he relished their support, even if Dresk and Drekask didn't entirely understand what was going on.

And then a female voice addressed him and Drekar blinked, turning towards the woman who spoke to him, whose skin and hair was as dark as his was light. He didn't recognize her from the tunnels, and a quick glance at her shoulder knots confirmed why: a dragonrider. Drekar dipped his head in greeting, not allowing himself to rise to the obvious jab in her words. "My aim has served me well enough in ground fights against felines and whers, but I've only aimed at humans once." he replied diplomatically, feeling Drekask's wince at the memory of the attack. The scars on his abdomen, as well as Drekask's hide, still hadn't faded completely, and he doubted Taliah or Talisk were fully recovered from the attack either. "But I got out of that situation alive, so I suppose I'm not terrible." He paused just a moment before adding "...Milady." dipping his head once again before stepping away, focusing once again on the target. Perhaps a less than polite response on Drekar's part - for his standards, at least - but he was already rather uncomfortable tha the had been addressed. For all Drekar had once longed to be a dragonrider, he realized after years in the tunnels that he didn't quite mix in well with the more confident group.

Mon Aug 17, 2015 12:37 pm

“You might want to work on staying a little more focused,” Tazkerov teased quietly, as Minkelina turned away from the targets, obviously upset at her failure to continue into the final round. Minkelina turned a glare at him, but she couldn’t maintain it for long, her lips twitching with an urge to smile, an urge to echo the smile that shone in her brother’s eyes, for all that his lips didn’t move an inch. One moment, two, three, that was all she lasted, before catching her brother’s arm and laughing. For once, she truly didn’t care what anyone watching thought. She was glad, newly glad above the baseline, that her brother was here, that they were still together.

Both siblings paused slightly though, a sudden quiet stillness that was just as quickly changed into a casual departure, as if they’d simply been communicating by gesture and expression, at the words spoken by the other woman in the competition. That didn’t sound like an idle question. That sounded like a question asked by someone who knew their own answer, and wished to use that certainty against the other person. Certainly, it was harder to throw a knife at a person, though really, Tazkerov felt (and Minkelina agreed), the trick was just to refuse to hesitate, to refuse to consider what one was doing until long after it was done.
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Wed Sep 02, 2015 2:38 am

(So the Hatching sort of ate the are the finishing rounds.)
Final Round Results
Mansa - 20
Drekar - 17