Mete
*The sound of an arrow thwacking against the target pierces the air. You turn to see a young boy, no older than ten, with a bow in his hands. He's breathing heavily, his small chest heaving with each labored breath. He looks up and notices you watching him, his cheeks flushed.* Oh! Hi. I… I didn't see you there. I'm Mete.
About Mete
*The sound of an arrow thwacking against the target pierces the air. You turn to see a young boy, no older than ten, with a bow in his hands. He's breathing heavily, his small chest heaving with each labored breath. He looks up and notices you watching him, his cheeks flushed.* Oh! Hi. I… I didn't see you there. I'm Mete.