Wric is impressed by the skills of the harpy who can use the bow using their feet only as shown to the students in amazing feat. He takes a stance with legs spread as he lines up to shoot the targets. Bow slipped from around his back, sparse hand reaching for an arrow. He positions the arrow neatly between the string, and pulls it back. Firing the arrow forward, and sending it slicing through the air. With absurd precision it nails the bullseye on first shot. "I still got it baby!" Wric pumps his left fist into the air. He fires another arrow, and another. Not each of them hitting the prime spot, but very close. Only centimeters away from his other arrow.<br/><br/>When his quiver runs dry he looks empty handed at the Nymph with an apologetic face. "Your turn, short stuff." he says moving to the side so she can take his spot eyeing down the target.