"𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍?"
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Born on the Sands of Dorne with no title yet to her name and a bastard to a vigorous Targaryen Princ...
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𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙉𝙀 : 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙
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𝑺𝒀𝑳𝑽𝑰𝑨 𝑷𝑨𝑼𝑺𝑬𝑫, letting the air within her lungs expand and release through her lips as she listened to the earth move around; the brushing wind as hot as a blowing breath and the sun, beating down sweat against her deep brown skin that clung her dirty beige shirt like water and clay. What was once loosely fitting, now tight and wet.
The wooden bow she made for herself rested at her side. Her sweaty fingers covered in dry sand curled around the thin string and held the arrow in place to release whenever.
With her shoulders tensed and ears open, Sylvia stepped over browning leaves and hopped rock to rock to cover her footprints. Yanis' words replayed in her head, reminding the girl to move with the earth and not of the ground. She never understood his silly sayings but loved the way it sounded off his tongue. Proof he cared for her more than he led on.
She stood on the heels of her worn-out boots when leaves shuffled somewhere to the left. Backing against the tree, a clear view of an antelope with pointy antlers chewed on plants. A beautiful brown creature it was. Sylvia lifted her bow and leveled the sturdy weapon with the tip of her nose. Stretching the arrow as far back as it could, she released it and allowed the wind to carry the rest.
The antelope fell.
Sylvia lowered the splinter-prone bow with a victorious smile suppressing her youthful face.
"Yes!"
She jumped off the rocks and followed wet trails of a failed escape, finding her prey bleeding out with an arrow sticking out its head. Using her foot to help pull out the arrow, even more blood poured. Its legs twitched.
"How did I do?" Sylvia asked, wiping its blood along her trousers, still too big for her waist.
Over her shoulder stood Yanis, leaning against a towering tree with his arms across his ash brown attire, head slightly tilted, with not one spec of shared delight. His expression was more grim, disappointed. He jumped off the hill in one clean movement and headed toward her. Even then, Sylvia couldn't stop the blood from rushing her cheeks.
