Trying to ignore his annoying sister, Bran turned back around to face the target. Pulling the arrow back, and taking a deep breath, he fired. This time he actually hit the target! It wasn't a bullseye, landing a bit below the middle, but it was a victory for Bran nonetheless.
"See," Robb cheered, giving Bran a pat on the back. "Knew you could do it!"
"Maybe if your bitch of a sister wasn't teasing you all the time, you would be as good as me!" Theon said loudly, the comment obviously directed at Arya.
"Whatever!" She groaned, throwing her bow down and running away.
"Now," Theon said, turning back to Bran. "You have to raise your bow a bit. Aim a little above your target, like this." Grabbing a bow, he let loose an arrow, which found it's way to the bullseye.
Bran practiced with his brothers for another hour, trying his hardest to listen to their advice. By the end, he had made substantial improvement, even getting a few bullseyes.
"Not bad, Bran, not bad," Robb congratulated, putting the bows back where they belonged.
"Yeah," Theon agreed, "One day you might even be as great as the great Theon Greyjoy himself!"
Bran rolled his eyes, but still appreciated the compliment. He realized he was going to miss Robb and Theon when he went south. Sure, they messed with him from time to time. But they were family, and they were good friends.
"Well Robb," Theon said, grinning. "It's that time of the week again!"
"By the gods, I almost forgot," Robb laughed, "And that you woulda been a damn shame!"
"You could always skip like last week!" Theon jeered. "Go dote over her!"
"Ah shut up!" Robb grumbled, blushing. "I'm going!"
"Going where?" Bran asked, walking over to the older boys.
"Oh," Robb said, seemingly forgetting Bran had been there. "Just somewhere we go to... relax."
"Can I come?" Bran asked, not understanding why Robb was so hesitant. It was not uncommon for Bran to accompany his big brothers, even if he was a few years their junior. They were all adults, after all.
"Maybe when you're older," Robb smiled, patting Bran on the shoulder.
"C'mon Robb, he's eighteen!" Theon argued. "He's old enough to get his dick wet!"
"Father wouldn't approve," Robb shoots back. "He barely allows us to go." Looking at Bran, he adds. "Sorry Bran, you can't come."
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