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The wind picked up as she readied her bow. Her brown eyes stared forward. She waited for the right moment.

The arrow went into her target dead center. She breathed a sigh of relief and lowered her bow. "Another perfect shot, of course." Kwin Jernee laughed and tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. "I am the absolute perfect marksman."

"Of course you are," her mother, Deila told her. "You listen to the spirit of the wind. It guides you."

"I don't believe in all of that spiritual stuff, Mother. I just believe that I am the best."

"An attitude like that could ruin you."

"Oh please, Mother," Kwin said. "I just want to give my all to be the best. You don't have to push me down because you couldn't be great." She stormed away towards her home.

"You're a good shot."

Kwin looked up and saw the set of dark robes. "Who are you?"

"I'll tell you if you go to Wales," the robed person said. "There is a bow there that will give you an even better shot. It's in a temple."

"A better bow? Really? But..." She looked around and saw no one. "Where did he go?" She sighed, and then smiled. "Well if there is a better bow, then maybe I should go and get it. After all, only the best should have it. I wonder if there's an easy way to get to Wales from Ireland."

She walked into her house still mumbling to herself about her journey.