Luckily his brother had a lot of property. Behind the large and somewhat rustic looking funeral home was a large courtyard, to the left a sizeable greenhouse, and beyond that, the home Marks lived in with his oldest brother, sister-in-law, and the grandparents who were practically his actual parents. The home itself looked like an oversized cottage, built to his brother's aesthetic tastes, which suited his own just fine, On either size was vast open land, and behind, a line of trees that bordered a ravine in which a creek flowed, followed by forest and rocky cliffs.
The property lay at the base of a mountain which had many hiking trails, due to the nature park that operated at the top. Marks wasn't sure where his brother's property ended and the park's began, but he knew said brother had his own trail that met up with the park trails. But that was an adventure for maybe another day. Marks had selected a spot close to the treeline along the ravine where flat open land afforded plenty of room for a shooting range, and any stray arrows would be buffered by the trees, and failing that, the cliffs on the other side of the creek, which were plenty tall.
Safety measures aside, Marks had created a quality range. Of course he did - his brother wasn't going to let him half-a** it. There was a renfaire-inspired structure, mostly for shade, but also to hold materials, from which they would shoot from, lanes with varying distances, targets backed with bales of straw...
It was worth the wait, while also being amazing that it was put together so quickly. So at the last self defense class Marks had let Peter know that everything was ready for the archery lessons, and time and place was set.
Marks was excited. Perhaps a little silly-ly so. Indeed, maybe he was over-doing it - his usual baggy clothes were shed for a fitted brown pants affixed with many decorative panels and pockets, tucked in to mid-calf length boots, and an equally fitted racer-back ribbed top. His hair was pulled back and braided, and he had his quiver at his hip, and leather bracer on one arm, and finger-tab glove on the other. Like this, Marks definitely looked qualified to teach archery.
Marks waited, sat casually against the hood of his car that was in the small faculty and family lot off to the side of the funeral home's lot. He didn't want to miss Peter's arrival, and also deter any confusion. After all, it was kind of an odd location situation. Honestly, Marks couldn't help but be a little nervous. He had never taught anything before. He questioned if he had it in him? He couldn't help but admire the professionalism that some instructors were able to have which avoided the perception of favoritism. In any classes he took, even the self defense one now, he was of happier to blend in with the other students, not being a stand-out for fear of spotlight and the perceptions that came with it, because he had experienced those kinds of instructors too - the ones who played favorites. So far he was pretty confident that Peter was more of the first type.
Luckily the archery lessons were one-on-one, so that was one less thing he had to worry about, but still! Could he effectively deliver the information? Would any of his blabbering make sense? How much touching was alright? Cause Marks wasn't sure how much instruction he could verbally give when it came to stance and stuff! But, that probably also depended on how well Peter took direction... Hmmm.
Yeah, Marks was nervous. He was also excited.
You would think he was waiting on a date, rather than lessons with his mix of emotions.
Orangeish Sherbert
