Training

"I was wondering when you'd get home."
Shiori and Claire looked up from their spot on the doorstep. Will, Claire's brother and Shiori's grandson, was sitting in one of the adler trees that lined their driveway.
"Do you want to train?" he said, tilting his head.
Claire looked to Shiori.
"Sure, but not for too long. A storm's coming," said Shiori as she shuffled into the house, "I'll bring out some soup!"
Claire looked up at Will. "Liam was shot. His left arm is going to be in a sling for a week."
Will jumped down from the tree. "At least he has Otylie to help him. Who shot him?"
"Jeffery."
He froze, "Who dropped him on the head as a child?"
He continued his walk toward a set of targets where he had laid his bow and arrows.
"Really that man has no redeeming qualities!" He collected the items and kept walking until the targets were just barely visible before nocking the arrow, drawing the bow string and fireing. He continued until his quiver was empty and walked back to his target. All of the arrows were clustered within a five inch diameter at the center of it.
"Alright William Tell," Claire said from her place by the second target, "do I need to get out the blindfold?"
He smiled and she emerged from the house a few minutes later with a strip of black linen which she promptly tied around his head.
He fired off another round. The result was the same.
"It's a shame that you can't use a sword. I really want to spar!"
"Why don't you ask Grandma?
"I was going to leave her alone. She did just walk five miles with a pot of soup."
"You're just afraid I'll win!" Shiori walked out of the house, carrying a tray of soup.
"Is that Otylie's soup?" Will asked, grabbing a bowl off the tray.
"Indeed it is." Shiori said.
Thunder boomed causing everyone to jump.
"I think it's time to head inside. I can beat you tomorrow!"
"No way!"

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