Opt was getting to the point where he could almost always hit what he aimed at with only one arrow. This was no small feat as he did not content himself with boring target rings or dummies stuffed with grass. Where's the challenge of trying to hit a standing target?
He practiced his shots in the trees, nimbly swinging from one branch to the next, setting an arrow on the fly in midair or while hanging from his knees on a sturdy vine. His absolute favorite marks were the pineapples that grew in abundance on the tropical stretch of land he called home. Splat! Golden chunks would go flying as spiky green tops launched high into the air. Sometimes they would even flip and land like sword tips being planted in the ground. Palm nuts would make a sound like gentle rain that was soothing. He would sometimes string special nets on the lowest palm fronds, catching as many nuts as he could for an afternoon snack.
He was just as glad to take a shot at papaya trees, trying to hit exactly the right spot to bring down a whole cluster of fruit. He never went hungry out in the forest.
It was on a midsummer afternoon that he took his first shot at a coconut. The thick brown fruits had never posed enough challenge for an archer capable of piercing a green pineapple from forty feet above the ground, but he was in the mood for something different. Perhaps it wouldn't be an insult to his skills if he could hit the very center.
The wind picked up, sending his first arrow into the tree's trunk. He frowned, his smile quickly returning as he thought up a fitting verse.
The fickle wind did not just see
The cruelty played on that poor tree
Besides being a rather admirable archer, he considered himself a budding poet. Most of the buds were infected with rot.
The next arrow, while not directly in the center, was quite a good shot. The coconut split, falling at just the right angle that he was able to catch a half. Grinning and taking a sip of coconut milk, he burst into song.
The coconut is so hairy
It puts to shame its mother tree
She feels so bald she hides her face
Her own children are her disgrace
He made a face that turned into a grin. At least he hadn't tried to end a line on coconut this time. There were not a lot of polite options one could pair with coconut.
His dog-eared Book of Poetry was so worn from reading that the binding contained more tape than paper at this point. He could not honestly say how many times he had read through the collection. The poems within were his inspiration and his torment. He would never match the brilliance of the Word Wizards immortalized in that glorious collection, but he would never cease trying.
The wind was once again playing tricks on him, sending his arrow off into tall grass where he could not retrieve it and making the pineapples below do a crazy, taunting dance.
One of the stalks froze in place and flopped to the ground. Opt raised his bow, puzzled by that pineapple's odd behavior. Shrugging, he decided to take the shot anyways, cheering when the pineapple burst.
The creature that darted forward to eat the fruit was like nothing Opt had ever seen. It looked sort of like a dog but had thick red fur and a pointy snout. It devoured the fruit as if it hadn't had a good meal in weeks.
Opt did not like dropping to the ground but he found most creatures would run if they heard a voice from above. The fox barked in alarm but was too tired to run. He settled for baring his fangs.
"There's no need for that. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know what you are."
Seeing the bow lowered, the fox relaxed a bit, though he did not take his eyes off it for a second. "I'm a fox, of course. My name is Rob." His eyes widened. "You mean to tell me you've never met another fox? You've never been up North?"
Opt wanted to roll his eyes but he resisted. More than anything, he wanted to see more of the world. He couldn't say what had kept him in this familiar forest for so many years but every time he got beyond the twin mountains he found himself longing for the sweet taste of pineapple and had to turn back.
"What's it like up North?"
Rob sighed. "It's beautiful, if you don't mind freezing your tail off in the winter. My family says I'm crazy for wanting to go south, but you never have to deal with getting pine needles in your pads and the food here is so much better."
"Pine needles? What are those?"
Rob rolled his eyes. "You know, from pine trees. They're like a pine tree's leaves only they're pointy and not at all pleasant to walk on. Not as bad as stepping on a pine cone, though. Those really hurt. I guess you could say they're like much smaller versions of the pineapples you have here."
Opt smiled. "I want to go North. I'll bet I could hit one of your pine cones with one shot."
Rob grinned, always eager to take a gamble he was sure he could win. "I'll take you to the borders of the Great Northern Forest and when I win, you have to help me build my hut beneath the best papaya tree in the whole land."
"And if I win, you have to take me to see all the great sights of the world."
"There were seven last time I heard but some monks in a secluded little abbey were working on number eight. Not that it matters much...I'm sorry but I didn't get your name."
"I'm known as Opt but my friends call me Imi."
"Well then, Imi, there is something you should know. I have never lost a bet." He held up a paw. "Will you shake on it?"
"With pleasure." They clasped hands and the bet was made.
They traveled for many days. Imi saw more new sights than even the poets could record in one book. After hearing just one of Opt's verses aloud, Rob developed a very real concern for the health of his ears. They stopped at a little roadside stand where Rob made his new friend the gift of a small journal.
"To record your thoughts so you lose none of the memories of this little journey. It will give you some light reading after a long day of constructing my walls."
Rob would have been content to stop at the first evergreen tree but Imi insisted on savoring his first day in this new forest. A light coating of snow on the ground gave the place a magical feel.
Rob pointed to a very old tree. "There's the one you want. This one is a grandfather among pines. You won't find better and I'm ready to claim my winnings on this bet."
For the first time in his life, Rob lost. The arrow flew true, sending a broken pine cone to the ground with a resounding crack.
"What's the matter, Rob. Did I outfox you?"
Rob released a gusty sigh. It was going to be a long year.
Story by 
Pureflower
Credits*Base
code by:
dreamsky*Profile graphic, character, and edited code by:
Kiseki*
Polaroid Frame*
Arrow*
Various Brushes/Image Editor 
Scribble Paralix
