<span style="font-style: italic">Elizabeth looked towards Phytos, she gave him a a soft smile.before saying. "Not a problem, though i do believe you are in the wrong line. Archers are over there." She pointed to the group of archers dressed in red. "Good luck Phytos, make sure you hit your target. Also, if you see a werewolf, it's cool, it's just Micky. He won't actually kill you.. I think." The pink haired knight then looked back out at the field and pointed to the rather large boy in the black armour. "That's Micky down there, only werewolf to come to a school like this. Though that's all I know about him, don't get me started on werewolf history though. Any time it comes up in class, he just tells everyone it's none of our business. Werewolves don' like outsiders it seems, I wonder why.."</span><br/><br/>Phytos turned a slight shade of pink from his embarrassment and backed away to trot over to the Archers in the red vests. Elisabeth's warning of the werewolf made him skeptical at first, but he doubted she was the type to joke around in this situation. Phytos made a point to single out the boy in the black armor and turned to pull a practice arrow from his quiver. Glancing over his shoulder he counted the arrows he had left. He started with ten, he drew one, and still confirmed there were ten left in his quiver. The odd enchantment still amazed him after all these years and his attention was suddenly diverted back to the field again when the horn blew.<br/><br/>Actually, the horn was barely ten paces behind him and made him jump when it went off, the arrow he had knocked was drawn in a panic and accidentally loosed almost straight up in the air, at an angle that might land it near the center of the field, but it flew into the sky and out of sight. It might be a while before it came back down...<br/><br/>Turning a deeper shade of red he drew another arrow and still ten remained. Taking a breath, he calmed himself and readied for the two sides to clash as he picked his targets. His bow was drawn again, aimed at the boy in black armor across the field. As both sides advanced, he let the string go, his arrow sailing in a projectile path over the heads of his comrades towards his intended target.