Lyn's face was set in a grim expression as she marched across camp, a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. Her eyes scanned the area, seeking the form of a certain plainsman. When she found him, she stopped at his side, dropping the bundle and letting the clatter as a bow, quiver, and handful of arrows fell from the blanket announce her presence. He looked up, but otherwise had no apparent reaction, forcing her to speak first.

"I want you to teach me," she said, then feeling that it was too much like a command added, "if you don't mind. Eliwood's learning the lance, and Hector's learning the sword, and I don't want to be left behind." She knew it was foolish, her desperate desire to prove herself to the other lords, but more than that, she wanted to be able to protect her friends, to fight side-by-side with Kent and Florina and Sain. She didn't need anyone else's blood on her hands.

She thought she might need more justification, and she opened her mouth to wheedle and convince, and maybe even to command, but he was already getting to his feet, gathering up the weapon she'd dropped and pressing it into her arms. She accepted the burden easily, and he took up his own bow where it leaned against a nearby tree. Then he walked away.

She would never be used to his wordless ways, never not feel like an intruder around him, but she followed nonetheless, even her quiet footsteps too loud. He led her to a small clearing, away from the bustle of camp. Targets were carved into several trees for practice. If it had been solely his retreat and hideaway it would have been too much and she would have felt uncomfortable tromping all over it. Luckily, an abandoned pair of gloves and a smaller bow lying by one of the targets made it likely a haven for the archers in the group in general to come and practice, though neither Wil nor Rebecca nor anyone else were here at the moment.

She realized now that she'd never seen Rath shoot on foot, as she studied the unfamiliar form of him standing straight, arms crossed and eyes on the target. When he spoke, she jumped in surprise.

"Try it."

He nodded towards one of the carved trees.

Lyn nodded, flicking her ponytail over one shoulder. She picked an arrow a bit sheepishly, not sure what she should be looking for in one, and hefted the bow in her hand. It took a bit of fumbling, but she managed what she felt was a proper stance, and drew back the arrow to her ear. She paused then for a moment, waiting for advice, then released the bowstring.

Several things happened at once.

The arrow went off somewhere to her left, zipping past Rath's nose. (he didn't flinch.) The bowstring snapped against the soft skin on her inner arm, though her wrist was spared due to her gloves. She almost overbalanced, wobbling and stepping backwards. Rath sighed and uncrossed his arms.

"Don't do that," he advised, and Lyn wondered with an internal scream of frustration what exactly 'that' was. There was a patch of red on her inner elbow now that stung, and she frowned at it, resolving to ask Serra to look at it when she got back to the main camp. She hardly noticed Rath stepping to her side, unbuckling a thick leather gauntlet from his wrist. She did notice when he wrapped it around her forearm, still warm from being close to his skin.

"You need one of these," he informed her. The brace near wrapped around her arm twice, and he tightened it with the buckle, his eyes steady on the strap as he worked. She watched his face, but he didn't look up, not even once, and again she wondered if she'd offended him. But he wasn't done.

He chose the arrow this time, fingertips dipping into the quiver and selecting one like an artist picking a brush. He stepped behind her and handed her the arrow over her shoulder as he curled his fingers on his free hand over hers, raising her bow and arm together. Lyndis felt her pulse began to pound, wishing he would just tell her what to do. But verbal communication wasn't a skill Rath possessed, and instead he guided her with light touches, tilting her chin, fixing her stance, and finally guiding her to draw back the bow. Lyn squinted at the target and tried to focus solely on it, and not on the changes he was making to her posture. His left hand finally came to rest on her hip and his right just behind her wrist, out of the way of the arrow that was ready to fly. They were still for just a moment, and Lyn didn't breathe for fear of messing up. Then he mumbled one last instruction, his breath brushing past her ear.

"Relax."

With a twang the arrow went wild into the trees again, but Lyn hardly noticed, her face red as she dropped the bow and hastily undid the buckle that held his gauntlet to her arm.

"I think that's enough for one day thank you and goodbye," she said hastily, not meeting his eyes as she pushed the blue leather garment back at him.

Rath accepted it in confusion and watched her hurry back to camp. It seemed he wasn't a good teacher after all, though he hoped she would give him another chance in the future.