Ficlet for mizzmarvel

[caiusbackup]

Reposted and backdated for cataloguing purposes.

Prompt: Connor Hawke, gen, please.

Connor lifted his bow, slowly, carefully. Without the urgency of combat, he could truly *focus* on his technique. On shooting with his full soul, his--

*CRASH!!!*

"OLLIE! YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO CLEAN THE FRIDGE YESTERDAY!!!"

Connor paused, thrust rudely out of his concentration. Only for a second. He frowned at himself and continued, nocking the arrow and bringing his focus back to--

"HEY! Would it KILL YOU to take some RESPONSIBILITY AROUND HERE?!!"

--the target. His family should be *part* of his awareness, it was important to--

"LAST TIME I cleaned out the refrigerator, I GOT YELLED AT!!!"

--be aware of his surroundings, but the important thing *here* was to be at one with bow and arrow and--

"You mean when you THREW OUT ALL THE CHILI?!!"

--target. Connor refocused and loosed the arrow. It went to the bullseye. Still, not quite the effect--

"IT WAS INEDIBLE!"

"You ALWAYS say it's INEDIBLE! That doesn't mean you can THROW MY FOOD AWAY!"

--Connor had been looking for. He frowned slightly, taking out another arrow--

"Well, then, DON'T BLAME ME WHEN IT WINDS UP ON THE FLOOR!!!"

--placing it on his bow, pulling back--

"It was BALANCED PERFECTLY WELL this MORNING!!!"

--and letting go.

After all, if he'd wanted quiet practice time, he'd have stayed in the monastery.

As it was--well. If he stayed down here, he was less likely to wind up scrubbing the floor.