OOC: Due to RL things, I was not able to post a meeting during the first half of term. Please believe that the club has been running all year and that this is not the first meeting for the group. BIC:
Keme stood in front of the targets as he always did before they began their Archery meeting. He was finding that he truly enjoyed being a Host for this club and was glad that he had talked himself into doing it. It was only a shame that he hadn’t started it sooner, but there was no reason to dwell on regrets. The fact that he had enough self-confidence to start the club at all was a huge success and he could only hope that those who were participating in it were enjoying themselves.
Keme was legally an adult now in the Magical world and he had to really start figuring out what it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing. He knew that he wanted to go back to his lands and be with his friends and family, there was no doubt about that. But he wasn’t sure what his role would be there. He didn’t want to become a Healer or anything such as that, but being the Chief’s grandson meant to ought to take on a more prominent role within the Tribe than background noise. He wasn’t going to run the tribe, but they expected him to still have a face to the family name. He couldn’t slack off or hide. He was a RunningBear and though that name meant little to everyone else, it was of the highest privilege to carry it amongst his people. What this club was teaching him about himself though was that he was really enjoying teaching them. He was beginning to think of the prospect of becoming a professor of sorts. He just had to decide on the field.
This also meant that he wasn’t really sure about dating someone who wasn’t from his tribe. Over break, he had come to the realization that anyone who married outside of the tribe were only from the surrounding areas. Meaning, they were people who were already familiar with their way of life. There were very few who went to University outside of their lands, Keme being the first to go to Secondary school off their lands, and most returned to marry someone from home (if they married at all). It was rare for those to not return and if they didn’t it was due to their career choice more so than anything else. Keme just wasn’t sure he could convince a female from a society family to live on his lands.
“Just like in our last meeting, those at level one should be choosing a starter bow to practice on.” Keme stated when they began the meeting. “For those who have progressed onto level two, I have procured a group of various types of bows. I want you all to decide on if you want to keep using a starter bow or try out these other bows to discover which type works for you best.” Keme pointed to the few bows that lay close to the wall.
“Remember, if you’ve been able to hit close to the bullseye after a few shots, it’ll be time to move your targets back a couple of feet and try again. If you have any questions or concerns, come ask me. And remember, no one goes over the shooting line until the whistle blows telling you that everyone has already shot and it’s safe to move.”
Clark hadn't really joined many clubs up until this point. His first year had featured the alien invasion and the staff had all been too busy fighting that off to teach for the first half of the year, so most of his beginner years had felt a bit like an exercise in catch-up, so he had left most extra-curriculars off his schedule.
Now, in his third year, he felt secure enough in his academics to branch out beyond Quidditch, Library helper, and the Book Club. (All of which he considered essential parts of Being An Alderaanian.)
The first club outside of those that had struck his interest was the Archery Club. Having been attending for half a year now, he entered the Sports MARS room where it was held with confidence. Not so much because he was good at archery, but because he was at least familiar with it enough now that he no longer needed help picking out his starter bow and finding his arrows and lining up along the shooting line with the rest of the students. He even strung up his bow himself and didn't need any help knocking the arrow to the string with its index fletch facing out.
His only trouble yet that was keeping him from moving up to Level Two was that he couldn't actually hit the target consistently.
Clark lined up and when the group was ready to shoot their first arrows, he tried aiming just a bit over the center bulls eye to account for gravity and air resistance, (the indoor shooting range fortunately had no wind to bother his flight pattern) and loosed the arrow. It still hit the ground four feet in front of his target and a foot off to the left. He sighed, and drew his next arrow to line up for the next round. Maybe this time he'd get the draw to work better. He thought he might have let go without drawing the string back far enough. He still compensated a bit higher and to the right in his aiming though.