Talk:Cupid/@comment-26115871-20150719051448/@comment-26219553-20150729224843

The lizard part of my brain is screaming at me to either counter-attack or run, but my inner perfectionist demands attention above all else.

"Hey, miss, uh... sorry, didn't catch your name, love."

"Uh... you seem remarkably calm about being shot at, you know. It's Jane, by the way..."

"Right. Thanks, Jane. Name's Serraxas. Anyways, I think I know what you're doing wrong with your shots. Question: when you're shooting, do you focus on your bow arm or the drawing of- and release- of your arrow?"

"...I prefer to worry about getting the shot off smoothly. Arm looks after itself, right?"

"Not as much as you'd think. Trust me, a lot of potential dinners escaped me before I reached that conclusion myself. Here, take up your firing stance, I'll walk you through it..."

Eventually, after many hours of swapping archery tips and hunting advice, she declares me to be her kindred spirit/ fellow bow nut and tackles me down to the ground to consummate our new marriage.