Aiming the bow, Aragorn studied the target carefully. He nocked the arrow trying to calm his racing pulse. He must not fail .So much depended on him hitting the target. A little to the right- not too much. With a mighty effort he drew back the bowstring and loosed the arrow.
“I won again!” Faramir said joyfully, clapping his friend on the shoulder. ”So as we agreed, you will meet the ambassador while I go riding with Éowyn.
“You shot well, mellon nîn.” Aragorn conceded defeat graciously. ”Give me a sword in my hand rather than a bow any day!”