Enriel stood at the edge of the vast lake, his short bow strung with little effort. It was a flimsy thing, with underrated wood and weak string, but Enriel's skills with a bow made the object a little less unreliable. He had chosen such a large, open area for his training area due to the amount of harmony that was given off. It's whispering waves slowly rocking with the currents as it's waters slowly slip into a river runoff strum gently against his pointed ears. Animals of all sizes and races watched the man who seemed to embody serenity and tranquility as he released his bow, watching a quail-feather tipped arrow fly across the blue water and sink into the trunk of a withering redwood. He lowered his arm and relaxed his grip, giving his muscles a moment to rest. He looked behind him, smiling at the deer and squirrels and sparrows as they, along with several others, scattered the path directly behind him, watching with great interest. As a Quendi, Enriel was always attune with nature and a common friend of the forest, so such behavior wasn't new to him. He enjoyed the company, and most of the calm he felt was given to him by their presence. After all, he trained every day to better protect them. What better way to gain their trust then to allow them to monitor his progress.

Turning back to the lake, Enriel drew another feathered arrow from his quiver strung across his back and placed it's end in the middle of the string, before pulling back, stretch the string tight against the wooden handle. He zoned in on the tree's base, his amber eyes taking in the image of the first arrow implanted into it's bark. He chose his target, prepared his muscles for the coiled reaction, aimed, and released. The sheer speed and power of such a flimsy weapon was one to admire, and even more so as the arrow cleaved through the first and caught on deep wood, sitting in the middle of the first arrow, which was now cleaved in two. Enriel lowered his bow again and released a large sigh. He was afraid he was growing too relaxed to be any good, but his aim was as skilled as it had always been. He had nothing to fear. At least for the moment. At a distance behind him, a fallen stick snapped under the pressure of weight being put on one's foot. The sound was so loud against the silence that the animals scattered, sending distressed cries about the air. Enriel caught the commotion and turned towards the source, bow not raised but strung and ready to be used in case of danger.

"Fair thee well, stranger?" Enriel asked the unknown figure in the thicket of the brush as they became close enough to make out.