"Little Witch." This time, Milo had followed Karu over. Wearing a haughty expression, Milo yawned impatiently.
"Where did the Little Witch go?"
"To trade," Lien replied, for once.
"Oh, this brat looks quite a bit taller after just a month." Milo swung a palm toward him.
As though he had eyes in the back of his head, Lien nimbly turned and dodged Milo's huge palm. But after missing once, Milo immediately chased him for another try. When neither the first nor second strike landed, Lien dodged while making faces at him, stirring Milo's competitive spirit. A little horseplay turned into a fight.
Lien disliked Milo because of the hostile way he looked at the Little Witch. As Lien darted away, he pulled out his bow and arrow, turned, and aimed at Milo. Watching Milo pounce swiftly toward him, he gauged his speed on either side and even calculated whether he was more likely to dodge left or right.
Whoosh.
Milo stopped abruptly and instinctively dodged right.
Just then, a strange gust rose, carrying the arrow past Milo's left shoulder and grazing it.
Watching from the side, Karu was startled. Lien was improving at astonishing speed. When he had first arrived at the Cass Tribe, his arrows had been accurate, but neither their range nor their power had been particularly good.
"You little brat, you're serious!" Looking at the cut the arrow had left on his arm, Milo nearly underwent beast transformation on the spot in his anger.
"Yes. If you dare hit me for no reason again, I'll shoot this arrow into your chest." Lien drew out an arrow and pointed it provocatively at the left side of Milo's chest. That piercing gaze was nothing like what a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old child ought to possess.
And Karu saw resolve in