Why I reckon Rolf doesn't like to expand on his marmot tale.
I don't own Fire Emblem... -generic disclaimer here-
Rolf peered nervously around the clearing he'd chosen to practice in. He took the target Shinon had given him and approached a thick, sturdy tree, hammer in hand. Casting one last furtive glance around, Rolf quickly nailed the target to the trunk. He'd show Shinon how dedicated he was to learning. Wouldn't he be proud of him?
Well...maybe proud was a bit much to hope for. Pleased would probably be closer.
Admittedly it was strange to be out practicing without Shinon to supervise, but what could go wrong? There was no one around to see if he goofed up. Doing that in front of Shinon was always the worst. The sniper always got a weird look on his face and there was always the tense few moments when Rolf would fear that he was about to get yelled at.
But Shinon was surprisingly patient. Usually. There had been that time where he'd lost his temper when Rolf couldn't manage to string his bow properly and Shinon had snatched it away, saying that they'd have to work on that and it was just too godessdamned painful to watch any longer.
Rolf checked how securely he'd fastened the target to the tree and backed up twenty paces. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and fitted it to the bow. The string bit into his fingers as he drew it back, eyes locked on the target. The arrow clipped the edge of the target and stuck in the bark of the tree next to it. The boy grinned. That had been pretty close. His smile faded as he thought about what Shinon would have said about such a shot, if he'd been watching.
"You call that a hit? Are you insane? At best you startled them."
Rolf drew another arrow. His brows furrowed in concentration and his tongue poked out the left corner of his mouth as he took aim again. With a dull thwack the arrow buried itself a hand span below the target in the tree trunk.
The next shot hit the target and stuck. It wasn't a bull's-eye, but it was on the target, and that was something.
Half a mark later, Rolf had made little progress. He had yet another arrow fitted and drawn back, the feathers of the fletching brushing his cheek. He stared at the target, gaze unwavering; his arms trembled from the strain of holding the bow drawn.
"Only an idiot tries to keep their bow drawn that long."
Rolf jumped. The arrow shot off the bow with a twang and sailed right past the target and tree, striking something on the ground that let out a high squeal.
Shinon tutted disapprovingly, shaking his head. Rolf stared at him, wild-eyed. The sniper walked over and gave the boy a sharp cuff on the back of the head. "That's for letting me distract you."
Rolf absently rubbed the back of his head, and turned to look at where his arrow had gone. "What happened?" he asked.
"You missed."
"But I hit something..." Rolf protested, pointing after his arrow.
"Well it wasn't the target."
Whatever Rolf had hit chose that moment to let out another squeak of pain and Rolf threw down his bow, running off to go investigate.
"Rolf, get back here!"
He didn't listen, charging forward to find the source of that agonized wail. Rolf skidded to a stop as he came across it. Pinned to the ground by the arrow, still squealing, its legs flailing helplessly, was a marmot.
"Shinon!"
The sniper had already been making his way over, and broke into a run as Rolf called for him. He came to stand next to the boy and looked at the struggling animal, his expression unreadable.
"We need to do something!" Rolf cried.
"Like what?" Shinon asked, fixing him with a flat look.
"Like... Like take it to Rhys."
"We are not taking it to Rhys."
Rolf's lower lip began to tremble. "But...but it's hurt. And he can make it better."
Shinon sighed. "We are not taking a stupid marmot to Rhys so he can heal it. It's a waste of our time and his."
"But-"
"We're not. End of story."
Rolf stared at Shinon in horror. He looked at the marmot and then back to the sniper. How could Shinon just stand there so impassively while a living creature was suffering? Dying!
"We have to do something," he protested.
Shinon shook his head hopelessly. "If it bothers you that much, then fine... We'll do something about it." Rolf's expression of relief was short lived as Shinon knelt and pulled a small hunting knife out of his boot. The sniper held it out. "Here. Fix it."
Rolf backed away, shaking his head and waving his hands unhappily. "No. Uncle Shinon, no. Please don't make me kill it."
"You've already killed it. This is just speeding it up." Shinon waved the handle of the knife at Rolf again, encouraging him to take it.
Rolf took a tentative step forward and grasped the handle of the knife, lifting it from Shinon's palm. He tightened his grip on the knife and looked at the struggling marmot. Tears shone in his green eyes as he raised the blade.
"C'mon what are you waiting for?" Shinon demanded.
The boy let out a strangled sob. "I can't do it."
"It's a marmot. You want to be a mercenary, guess what; you have to kill a lot more than some stupid rodent to do that." Shinon glared. "Now hurry up."
Rolf took one look at the suffering marmot – stared into its big dark, terrified eyes, fell to his knees and started to cry. "I can't do it!" he wailed. "I can't! Please don't make me do it!" The knife dropped to the ground by his knees. "Please, Uncle Shinon!"
Shinon let out a growl of irritation, picked up the knife and stabbed the dying rodent, putting a quick, merciful end to its life. He wiped the blade off on the grass and slipped it back into his boot. The sniper stood.
Rolf stared up at him in dismay, tears sliding freely down his cheeks. "It was an innocent animal!"
"Innocents get hurt all the time. If you don't learn to use that bow properly it will only get worse. Now get up."
Rolf got to his feet, sniffing and wiping his eyes.
Shinon brushed the dirt from his clothes and started back out of the trees, not bothering to check if Rolf was following. The boy scurried after him.
The sniper's stride didn't waver until he came to Rolf's bow lying in the grass. He picked the weapon up and turned, face set.
Rolf gulped.
"You've got the potential to be a really good archer, Rolf," Shinon said. "But if you can't deal with that," he pointed at the trees, "Then you are never going to make it."
Rolf nodded.
Shinon held the bow out. "Go home. Think about it. If you can't deal with that, don't come back here tomorrow. I won't waste my time on you if you're not going to try."
Rolf took the bow and nodded solemnly.
Shinon walked away, leaving Rolf alone to contemplate his continued archery training.
Dawn the next day found Rolf standing once again with the target nailed to the tree, his fingers already rubbed raw from early practice. His face was set in grim determination as he focused on his target.
And every single arrowhead had been wrapped in burlap.
At that point, Shinon didn't know whether to laugh or just plain give up.
And that is Rolf's marmot story. Comment if you so desire.