Twyla picked up the bow. Her fingers curved around the smooth wood. She had thought it would be heavier. After all, it was nearly as long as she was. But there was no way she was going to say anything. Not when Bastian was finally letting her pick up a weapon.
Months had gone by since Bastian had drained her blood. Though… Twyla wasn't actually sure. Time seemed to blend together. One long day of training with Bastian, then Raven, then dinner with one or both of them then sleep with Bastian. Or maybe not so much sleep…
As much as she was loving her life right now, the threat of Aurora loomed over them but Bastian refused to let her anywhere near the war efforts until she was trained up. Which was why she was here now, before the sun even set, staring at the target holding a bow. She pressed her wing bones together as she loosened up and planted her feet like Bastian had taught her.
"Okay, so… Not like that," Bastian instructed.
