By the time the afternoon comes around, he at least manages to hit the stump more often than he misses it. Still, it will not be nearly enough to hit anything that was actively trying to get away from him. With this setback he has to have an exceptional stroke of luck or he's simply going to embarrass himself in front of his host. The thought of doing so is more... troubling than he might have imagined. After all, what does it matter how good he is with the bow and arrow when he knows he can alter the course of the wind at a whim or strike the greatest of beasts down with tooth and claw? The opinion of one mortal shouldn't matter. It is illogical of him to want to [i]impress[/i] Viltez, especially since this form of his is inferior in every aspect to his true form. 

'[i]He might be an interesting mortal, but a mortal nonetheless,'[/i] he thinks to himself as he cocks another arrow. [i]'I owe him some small amount of respect since he is my host, but I needn't care what he thinks of anything except for the tribute I offer in return.'[/i] He smiles in satisfaction when the arrow strikes true and reaches for another one. [i]'And any opinion he might have about me is flawed in the first place. If he knew what I truly was like, he would have no choice but to be impressed.'[/i] It's not that hard to imagine what Viltez might look like should he ever see his true form. A mix of respect and just the right amount of fear as he reveals himself- perhaps in his cave surrounded by his treasures. The expression of joy that would surely follow once he got a chance to show off his flying tricks, the questions he would-

Someone suddenly coughs and Autharyx lets out a completely undignified yelp as the arrow he was aiming flies wide of his target. He turns around with a jerk, ckeeks burning slightly with what he refuses to acknowledge as shame. 

"Ah, Viltez," he says calmly, brushing a non-existent spot of dust of his sleeve with the air of a startled cat pretending he was calm all along. "I was just, er, practising. Brushing up, really." He doesn't miss the glance to the arrow stuck on the roof, and he has to mentally clamp down on the blood vessels in his face to keep a blush from spreading. At least Viltez had complemented his shooting, but that is a meagre consolation when faced with the truth.

"Heading out sounds good," he says quickly, before scurrying away to pick up the arrows he'd shot away. It doesn't take long and he gestures for Viltez to lead the way.

"Was your day agreeable thus far?"