So this is a new story I am currently posting, with a little help from DancingTiger I have to admit! Set mid season 1. Please review and even follow! Many thanks!
Robin let a cocky smile cross his face, steadying his hand as he pulled back on the arrow. It was perfectly aligned with the deer, and the arrow was ready to go right through the heart of the beast. Robin knew that it would be a hearty supper for his men. They deserved it, especially after such a long day at work. And by work, he meant archery practice. Feeling the smooth wood once more between his fingers, Robin let the arrow fly, and it hit home. The deer dropped to the ground, spindly legs collapsing beneath it. Bounding through the green growth of the woods towards his felled target, Robin thought back to archery practice.
It wasn't like his men were incompetent. In fact, it was quite the opposite. They could handle a sword like nobody's business, and were damn fine with whatever other weapons you gave them. Little John could maneuver his staff like it was part of him, all lethal, no give. But Robin wanted more than that, in his heart. His bow was his life and livelihood, and maybe he wanted it to be that to others.
Not many of them showed much promise other than Allan. Little John could hit a target from pretty close range, and Robin knew that if they were in a pinch he might help them. Will on the other hand couldn't do it for the life of him. Robin was almost a second late to save him from shooting his own foot, hardly believable that he could make a mistake so awful. Much and Djaq weren't awful, but they weren't great either. Only Allan had succeeded in hitting a target any smaller than a human head.
It took Robin a few seconds to tie the rope around the deer's body and begin to drag it back to their camp for the feast. The muscles in his arms bulged as he began up the hill, the deer's hooves scoring marks in the dirt of the forest that Robin called home. About halfway up, though the weight was no struggle for him, Robin began to wish that he had chosen a smaller target.
'At least we'll be able to save some of it' he thought to himself as he moved through the trees. A rustle came by his hearing, and Robin stopped moving for a moment. The rustle came again, and within a second Robin's bow was up and back, an arrow poised and ready to fly. Possibilities flew through his mind in the span of a few seconds, but nothing came up sounding quite right. Guards and the Sheriff's men came on horses, and they didn't move with grace. No animal except a deer could produce such a loud sound, but the deer would have kept moving. Other than his men, no one would be there.
"Come out now! It's not funny you guys!" Waiting took only a few seconds, with not a sound other than the whisper of the wind and his own breath. Robin put the arrow back, and let the bow hang by his side. His head scanned from side to side one last time before resuming in his trek with the deer dragging on behind him. The final conclusion that he came to was it was just his own hearing, nothing more. It bugged Robin that he could be so sensitive all of the time, even though it was what had saved his behind more than once, and sometimes he wished that he wouldn't be so uptight all the time.
Shrugging it off took no more effort than it took to drag the deer all the way back to camp, where Much was entertaining everybody with stories of dreams that he had gotten after eating spoiled cheese. Robin only knew these stories all too well, having to hear each of them a hundred times too many when they were traveling. Robin let out the short and high whistle, the pitch that told everyone in the gang that he was back. They all perked up and stood, leaving Much sitting there, looking a bit befuddled that everyone would stop paying attention to him so quickly.
"Hey guys! I have a treat for you!" Robin hoisted the deer up above his head, and Much finally jumped to his feet. Everyone, every last outlaw let out a whoop of joy. Robin slid down the hill on his heels, and dropped the deer down on the ground by the low fire. It took no time at all for the band of outlaws to set to skinning the creature of its wiry brown pelt.
When they were done with that messy task they started on putting it on sticks in form of a spit, and began to roast the deer over a fire that they grew by feeding it dry sticks. Robin sat back, a stalk of wheat in his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. Will was spending time hunting for sharp rocks they would use to sharped their swords and daggers, while Djaq was trying to clean the deer pelt as best she could. Robin knew that they would use it well for some kind of bedding.
Sherwood forest was a best a home as any, and Robin knew he wouldn't trade the life he knew he had now for anything in the world.
"Hey Robin, you got any more feathers?" That was Allan calling to him, and Robin sat up and looked at the man. After a moment of thought, Robin shook his head. They had used the last of the feathers long ago. Wondering why Allan had asked, he got to his feet and made his way to the man's sitting place.
It turned out Allan had a few arrows sitting on his lap, all arrow's retrieved from fights or stolen from the Sherriff's men. To the best of Robin's knowledge, he had most of the arrows that were around camp. But here Allan was, with a few more. Robin questioned him immediately.
"What are you doing with those arrows?" An accusatory tone had taken itself to Robin's voice, and Allan held up his hands in a sign of mock surrender.
"It's alright Robin. These are all damaged. They wouldn't fly straight, even from your bow. The feathers or shafts are damaged, and I am going to do the best I can to repair them. You know that we have to take everything we can around here and make use of it." Robin nodded, and Allan knew the look in his eye to be one of forgiveness for his short tone, something that the prided man would never admit aloud. Robin looked to the sky, squinting his eyes at the sun that filtered through the leaves, then turned back to Allan.
"You said you needed feathers?" Seeing Allan nod, Robin casually drew an arrow from its quiver. Running his fingers over it once, Robin put it in his bow and drew it back. Looking Allan in the eye, he shot the arrow into the sky without a second glance. Allan let a confused look cross his face, and then sighed.
"Now why'd you do that Robin? Obviously we can't just go wasting arrows like-" Robin held up a finger, a mischievous smile crossing over his face. Allan rolled his eyes, but watched Robin anyways. A few seconds later there was a soft whistling sound, and Robin outstretched a hand. A large bird with an arrow through its head fell into Robin's palm. Removing the arrow and wiping it on his forest green garments, Robin handed the bird to Allan.
"I trust this will do?" Allan only rolled his eyes, eliciting a smile of elation from Robin. No one needed clarification that this meant 'yes.'
Suddenly, Will came bursting through the trees, looking as if he had a ghost on his heels. Everyone in the camp stood up, most of them with hands going to their belts, resting on their swords. Panting only for a moment, Will pointed back into the trees, and finally smiled.
"Tax collector, two guards, heading through the forest. They're walking and looking pretty content with themselves." Robin felt a smile cross his face, and he snatched up his bow from where he had it leaning against a tree. Everyone looked to him, and it only took a few words to get everyone moving.
"Let's go get some justice."
There we go, please review!