[color=D6CC88]She watched Gage demonstrate, and tried to mimic him. Planting her feet was easy; holding the crossbow right less so. It wasn't that it was heavy per se, though it was hardly light, but Amuné found it big and unwieldy, and no matter how she held it the weapon felt awkward. After a minute of fiddling she found a way that didn't feel entirely wrong, and glanced over at the man watching. "Like this?" she asked hesitantly. His mocking hadn't done anything save sap her confidence. He was right, after all. She was a little girl who needed looking after, and the others had gotten hurt because she'd needed saving. What did she hope to do? Even if a crossbow was a better weapon than her slingstones, what did she expect? That she'd somehow turn into some sort of hero like in the stories, destroying monsters with a single well-placed shot and splitting other people's arrows in contests? That her new crossbow would make her fearless and bold, able to make the bad men turn and flee just by shouting at them? That, Saints forbid, she'd be able to face the people trying to hurt her and her friends and instead be able to hurt /them/ without being terrified, that her nightmares about people bleeding and hurting and dying would go away and she'd be okay with that sort of thing? For that matter, what exactly did /he/ expect? He acted like she should just know what she was doing, like she somehow could absorb the necessary skill just by touching the thing. Didn't he know it took a long time to be good at something? That was the whole reason behind apprenticeships and stuff. Knowledge was easy, doing was much harder. And she wasn't sure she'd be able to use the unfamiliar crossbow well if she was somewhere she needed to. Pressure made things so much harder. Looking over the thing she could see how the handle was actually a lever, and it looked like it was used to pull the bowstring back. She'd tried using a little bow her daddy had made for her once, but she'd never had much interest in it. She remembered it being hard to draw, and the lever on this made it not just hard but also awkward. Her hand kept slipping on the stock of the weapon, leaving the butt to press uncomfortably on her chest, and it wouldn't stay level either. If she tried to hold it farther away she didn't have the balance or leverage she needed. Crossbows, Amuné decided, were absolutely ridiculous.[/color]