The afternoon was perfect for it. A cool breeze carried cool air down the mountain and the sky was slightly overcast so they could easily see the targets. Louise gave Rylie an encouraging smile when she lined up to take wrist and finger guards like everyone else. Picking out her equipment, Rylie moved aside to watch everyone else string their bows. Louise wedged one end of the staff between her feet and forced the other into a curve, hooking the string over the end. The bows resisted being bent. It looked difficult. Rylie hooked the end of the string over one side, braced the bow between her hiking boots, and used all her strength to push down. It shattered. The loud crack made everyone look over at her. Rylie stared at the fragments of wood in her hand. “What happened?” Louise asked, hurrying over. “I don’t know. It broke.” “The wood must have been rotten,” she said. “You’re not hurt, are you?” Rylie shook her head and the counselor left to dispose of the fragments.
