Neytiri drew again, but a bright light flashed before her eyes. She raised her hand to block the light, and almost fell from the tree, cursing. "Bad luck, Neytiri. Focus." And she drew again, fired again, a perfect shot every time. Once she had used her six arrows, she jumped from limb to limb, reaching the target, removing the arrows, placing them in the quiver. She then dropped from the tree completely, landing on her feet, balanced and unharmed. Neytiri drew another arrow, and aimed at another target.