Lovely Ladies of the Hunt

[Ed Ashby]

#5524

On another thread someone commented that it’s fun how one thread leads into another. The thread on naming bows brought back to my thoughts how each of my bows has a feminine name and, it being Mother’s Day, I though what better time to post one of my personal favorite stories from the Old Derelict series. Hope you enjoy the read.

Lovely Ladies of the Hunt

Now, when it comes to women, it seems every man has his preferences. Probably it’s the same for women when it comes to men, but the Old Derelict wouldn’t know about that. But one thing is certain; judging by his ‘friends’, and the fact many of them managed to find spouses, there’s no question there really is someone for everyone! He’s also just as certain that one man’s pudding is another’s poison, so to each his own.

Regardless of their type, all the Old Derelict’s good bows, the ones he’s really liked, have had decidedly feminine personalities. This has often caused him to wonder if women prefer a bow with a masculine personality? Merely another of his profuse points of ponder.

There are few easier ways to get a heated conversation started with a group of bowhunters than to declare that one or the other type of bow is the best for hunting. When it comes to selecting a particular type of hunting bow each hunter has his own preferences and reasons for selecting it.

The Old Derelict has always been pretty broad minded when it came to his taste in women, beer, dogs and bows. He hasn’t met too many of either that he didn’t like. But, like all things, most sooner or later settle on one or another type which suits them best. While the Old Derelict likes all dogs pretty well, he prefers Labs and Beagles. In beer, it’s easy: Free! In bows, he’s pretty well settled that the longbow suits his personality and hunting style best. Women? Well, the Old Derelict may be stupid, but he ain’t crazy! He’ll keep his mouth shut on that one.

During his long and notably nefarious life, the Old Derelict has known … let’s just say several … women. Almost as many bows have, at some point, caught his fancy. Among both he’s found some genuine beauties … and a few real shrews. Yet, at the time, each had some endearing quality that attracted him. While, for sake of his skin, the Old Derelict won’t discuss the virtues and failings of the women he’s known, he will pass along his impressions of the various options available in hunting bows.

One can’t always judge by appearances. Some of the lovelies the Old Derelict has known didn’t look so hot, but had virtues far overshadowing their physical appearance. While courting their favors, he always felt each was a real treasure. First impressions led him down the wrong track more than a few times! But, as they say, the concept of ‘good’ can’t exist without ‘bad’, and each liaison increases one’s experience. For each person it is time and experiences that guides them along, patterning their own preference.

The Old Derelict has always thought of the compound as the Latin Lover of the bow world. She can be exotic, hot, fiery and full of spirit. She’s ready to give one all he can handle, if he has the patience, time and temperament to handle her properly. There is no question that she can be the fleetest of her breed, when handled in a manner she approves of. Her tasks she accomplishes with vigor creditable to her reputation.

More than a few compounds have held the Old Derelict’s fancy at various times. Caught up in the exciting grandeur of their volatile nature, he lavished much time and many presents upon them. Some became so bedecked in jeweled splendor that they were a wonder to behold. But with time he discovered that most were exceedingly fickle; temperamental, if you prefer. Some simply refused to make up their mind.

With each, it seemed the Old Derelict was always trying to soothe her mood at the moment. If he wasn’t tweaking a limb, he was repositioning the location for her to nestle the dainty nocks she so preferred. If it wasn’t that, it was adjusting the rest for her arrows, so they might repose in sublime comfort. Sometimes it was fiddling with the tiny window in her string or adjusting one of her many alignments to better suit her taste.

Then there was her high maintenance; cleaning and applying soothing lotions to her body parts, and paying to replace each whenever they became anything less than cosmetically perfect. It was always something; undoubtedly initiated by her desire to have the Old Derelict’s undivided attention.

All of her breed seemed to have very sensitive feelings, and were very easily offended. Regardless of which one he took out, the Old Derelict found she had to be held just right; caressed just so. He had to position his hands in precisely the right place to get her to respond the way he wanted her to, and never would she allow him to pluck at her string!

No compound the Old Derelict ever courted found even his most tender touch on her slender straps gentle enough to be acceptable. When he did try to stroke her supple strands she became angry, and made her displeasure known by the way she threw objects about. Each of these exotic ladies preferred a fast, ‘Let’s do it’ release when their pent-up stress was at its crescendo. The taller ones he met seemed slightly more tolerant of his touch on their choosy cords, but never was it willingly accepted by any.

Still, there are men who find they prefer volcanic response in both bows and women, regardless of what is required to have it. The Old Derelict can’t say they’re wrong. They get a lot of performance for their efforts. And that’s surely not all bad from either!

But the Old Derelict found that compounds just weren’t for him. They were physically overbearing, which became a burden as time passed. They could often be cold and impersonal. Each seemed to prefer having things her way, all the time. The constant struggle to keep up with her changing moods was more than he could cope with. Perhaps it was just a little selfishness on his part, but he needed one that was more devoted to him and had a lot less expectations of his abilities.

Then there were the somewhat more forgiving lovelies he’s known; more the hometown prom queen type. They were beautiful to behold, graceful, voluptuous and vivacious. They were recurves. They performed not all that far behind the fiery, high strung compounds, but were a lot easier to get along with. They were capable of doing mundane task with a quality of grace and beauty unmatched by any others.

Several of these curvaceous creatures the Old Derelict has known have generated great fondness in his heart, which still lingers. Generally, each accepted his somewhat less that caressing touch, responding in a most satisfying way; but not always. Under certain circumstances some were easily offended. The Old Derelict had to be mindful of their likes. Some preferred to be caressed fairly close to the way she preferred if the Old Derelict wanted her to give him the response he desired.

Most all liked, and readily accepted, his touch on their slender string. Still, he had to exercise care not to offend in any way. Woe-be unto all whose fingers lingered a bit too long on the supple strap delicately draped from the shoulders of her sensuous limbs!

Each of these lovelies the Old Derelict courted proved a reliable and seductively willing performer. Generally she was predictable, and he could count on her response under most situations. Whenever he did his part, living up to her expectations, she did her part. But when he didn’t perform his part perfectly she was easily turned-off, not so subtly dropping wayward hints of her displeasure. It was the rare time, however, that any refused to do what the Old Derelict asked of her. Some occasionally become a little too exuberant, involuntarily gushing forth twangs of joy, which often became disconcerting to any guest the Old Derelict may have invited to his stand.

The thing that really put the Old Derelict off these lovely ladies was that each seemed to age fast. It wasn’t the loss of their youthful good looks that bothered him, it was the infirmity that came with age, and it seemed to develop early in their lives. Stress lines would begin to show on their youthful faces. On their backs, the same lines appeared. These undoubtedly developed so quickly because they exerted such great effort trying to please.

Two of these shapely sirens gave the last full measure of devotion, literally dying in the Old Derelict’s hands. As if in a final passing comment each lashed out, striking him. It was possibly each one’s way of letting him know she had given her all; that she had tried to the last, striving and straining with all her body to give her very best every time he caressed her and lovingly plied her supple strands.

The early departure of these he had so loved weighed heavily upon the Old Derelict’s heart. It was difficult for him to accept; this seemingly congenital infirmity which had afflicted his lovelies during what should have been their prime together. Each time afterwards, just as he felt he was settling down with another of these captivating creatures, really getting use to her ways, the affliction that cursed the clan always seemed to appear, tearing the relationship apart.

Each new love the Old Derelict found from among their numbers would, after what seemed but a short time, manifest evidence of the disease. Each time he realized it was happening he felt a great sadness. He knew the Angle of Death might soon visit her, tearing her from his arms as it had the others. After the two deaths he had come to know the symptoms all too well. When they appeared he knew he must abandon her; forsake her for another, else her fate might be as the others had been. She too might die in his hands, imparting a final expression of her devotion indelible upon his body.

Several are the recurves that have held the Old Derelict’s heart. None can he fault. All were ever so gentle to hold. All had strands pleasant to softly stroke. None failed because of ability to answer his call when he needed her.

Just as for the hot blooded, fast, fiery and fickle compounds, there are those whose personality and temperament is best suited by a racy recurve. A sleek, slender, divine creature that will try her very best to give you all she has, at each beck and call. Some may prefer her simply because they do not want a companion that will stay for many years. They savor the variety a frequent change in partners can bring to their life; each offering a new horizon to be explored and enjoyed. Others may love her for different reasons.

Far wiser men than the Old Derelict have declared that is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. The Old Derelict would agree. Yet, for him, the recurves could not offer that which he sought. He longed for a lasting relationship, one that would withstand the test of time. He wanted a partner that would age slowly, one that would allow him time to get to know her intimately; to become as one.

The Old Derelict’s search for just the right relationship finally took him back to where he had started. His first childhood crush had been on a longbow. Perhaps it happened because he had known no others then. Life had been simple, and choices few. He had to find out. When he revisited her, he saw her through new eyes; eyes that had now beheld many others. He now held her with hands that had caressed a far greater number than he cared to remember.

Instantly the Old Derelict realized he was seeing her in a new light; seeing her as though for the first time. This time he looked upon her not as the object of his youthful infatuation, but as the lady she truly was. She was mature, developed, self confident and assured. Time and age had given her insight. She knew who she was, and what her roll in life was. Her skills had been refined through the years, and she was fully capable of doing her job in a most comforting way.

The Old Derelict found her attractive, even beautiful, in her subtleness. She was light hearted and fun loving but, most assuredly, not the flashiest thing around. Her responses were slower; her every movement carefully measured before acting. Still, when her emotions were aroused she responded with a seductively stunning vitality most becoming to her age and regal heritage.

She was always game for anything; always willing to try as best she could, with every fiber of her body, to do whatever the Old Derelict asked of her. Perhaps she could not give with the flash and fire of a compound, or the undeniable grace and elegance of a recurve, but all she had she unselfishly gave. In exchange she asked for naught except the chance to please. Never was she demanding. His caress she always accepted, whenever and however it was applied. Her string she cared not how he handled, for she sought only to please. Any method he chose pleased her well, and each time she responded in a pleasant and predictable manner.

Now that the Old Derelict had matured, had become worldlier, he saw in her features that escaped the naivety of his youth. In youthful exuberance and blissful ignorance he had forsaken his first love for another whose features seemed, at the time, everything his heart could desire. Having now tasted the bitter-sweetness of many others he found her graceful lines still cut a figure most pleasing to behold. Her limbs were long and slender, yet ever so strong. Each measured movement she made hinted subtly of her hidden talents. Her touch was ever so light as she held his hand. In moments of excitement she would tingle ever so lightly with joy.

Yes, the Old Derelict decided this lovely lady possessed all he desired. She was attractive, even tempered, willing, forgiving and sedately graceful. She embodied all the abilities required to get her job done. And why should she not? Her ancestors had been doing so longer than any other of her genre. Her heritage was both common and royal; loyally serving serf, nobleman, knight and king alike.

Best of all, she had time. She never seemed to show her age. Indeed, it was often difficult to guess the age of her older sisters, some of whom had seen a great many winter snows pass. They spoke sublimely of the years of devotion the Old Derelict could expect from one of her linage. It bespoke of a great number of years that could be spent in splendor, getting to know each other in that most intimate way. With her he could expect to share far more than with any other.

At times the Old Derelict still misses the volcanic response of some of the compounds he’s known, the sheer exuberance with which they can reciprocate when all is to their liking. And he will always have a place tucked quietly away in his heart for some of the lovely, graceful and seductively responsiveness recurves he has loved. It’s easy for the Old Derelict to understand how others love their chosen companions, as he loves his.

People are different. They seek different things from the ones they hold dear. Whatever mate suites your personality, wants and desires is just fine with the Old Derelict. It’s easy for him to accept other bowhunter’s choices of hunting companions. No matter what form the current love of your life may take, at one time or another the Old Derelict has held and loved one much the same. To him, each and every hunting bow is a wonder. All are truly ‘lovely ladies of the hunt’.

[Steve Sr.]

#42058

As always, Doc, much wisdom here in another of your posts.

Well worth framing in my humble opinion.

I can attest personally about be able to see true beauty in people and objects as time goes by.

Time does have attributes that it bestows on us other than bad ones and the ability to recognize AND APPRECIATE things we have “passed by looking for more” in our youth is one of the big ones.

Very much enjoyed the read.

God Bless

Steve

[Author]

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