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Venka's therapist had been right: getting a hobby did help.
Meeting Qara had helped even more, of course, but that was not the point. The point being that archery was great.
"Whose's that?" Venka asked, inspecting the printed-out photograph of a penis, which Qara had so kindly provided.
Qara affixed it to the target. She shrugged "My cousin Bekter's." Yikes.
Venka shuddered. "Mind if I go first?" She took position. From the sidelines, Qara grinned her go-ahead. Venka smiled back "Perfect." She aimed, drew her bow- and let loose.
The arrow struck true with a 'twack.' A satisfying accomplishment indeed.