Macy walked up to the archery range, Her tight, tight curls bouncing with every step she took. Her hair was dark brown with light highlights that seemed to flow with electricity itself. Macy was about 4'11 but don't say anything about her height, it may just be the last thing you do. Macy was know for her fighting skills and took pride in them. She wore black hiking boots, khaki shorts, her camp halfblood t-shirt, and a plain gold jacket. Macy could be a nice, funny, mischievous, and friendly person once you got to know her. But the newbies better watch out, her past has taught her not to trust people she doesn't know. She might seem hostile and unfriendly, sometimes without realizing it. Must mostly she does.
She took up a bow without looking at anyone else. Macy wasn't horrible at archery, but she wasn't great and it felt awkward to her. Chiron had forced her to make up for all the times she had skipped and practiced her dual dagger fighting in the arena. -SLING!- Her arrow soared through the air and missed the dummy by a couple of inches. She didn't really care, but all of the people next to her were all getting their arrows in with dead on accuracy. -SLING, SLING, SLING!- all of her next 3 arrows missed the dummy again. Fuming, she snatched up her two daggers with lightening speed from her boots where she kept them secretly hidden. They both sailed out of her hands, one hitting the dummies head clean off and the other striking right in the heart. She smirked to herself. That how Macy does it.