[Petra helps herself to an arrow with blue marks near the tip and gray feather fletching, twirling it between her fingers to test the weight and balance of it. There's no telling how it will actually fly until she shoots, but she does remember most of the descriptions Claude had offered during their trek out here— this seems like an excellent one to start with, although the string-marked shaft does grab her attention.]

That one has been giving you some real trouble, it seems. Maybe I can be helping you solve it.

[Not that she assumes she knows any better than he does, but a fresh pair of eyes might help. A different perspective almost always does.

Arrow in hand, she pulls her own bow from its strap, offering him another broad smile.]

Maybe you are just not shooting it right, Claude.