There's a small smile on Metaari's face as he pulls his sunbow from around his body, the wood delicate looking in his hand. An arrow is removed from his quiver and he glances sideways toward the younger boy before looking back down his lane again. "Try to keep your head centered. Tipping it forward or back will send your arrow off wrong."

He lifts his bow and knocks his arrow and takes a steady breath before drawing back the string. The moment it touches against his nose he releases, firing the arrow off to pierce the dummy where an eye would be.

"And yes. I was born in Rivain, at least, though I've spent more time traveling through most of Thedas than I have there. I assume you are as well, then?"