Molly had finished her bow. It was perfect for her height and current pull strength. She'd found a Brazilwood tree and with her newly made knife, has cut through some fifty long, straight branch offshoots. She carried them bundled under her arm. She needed to make half into practice arrows, but she needed fletching (she had gotten good at carving the three notches at precise 120 degree angles for proper spin) and she would need to make arrow heads for the other twenty five.

She spotted Tommy talking with the new girl, Mara, his own bow in plain view. He’d know where the fletching feathers were now.

"Oh no...." she whispered, putting a hand over her chest again. "What is that?"

Molly sank gracefully to the sand on the other side of the girl, concern creasing her brow.

"What's what?" She looked about for any sign of trouble, but didn't see a thing.