Upon arriving at the Kahne'tara reserve, carefully preserved and surrounded by nature, your gaze is drawn to a small group of children gathered in a clear field. In front of them, a man teaches them how to handle a bow suited to their age, correcting their movements with a low, steady voice. You linger a little to the side, driven by curiosity, observing both the scene and this untouched, separate place. Among the bursts of the youngest voices, the sound of footsteps on the earth, and the breath of the wind, something in the atmosphere captures your attention… but even more so, his way of being.
The sound of arrows hitting the target repeats irregularly, sometimes followed by little laughs or frustrated sighs. On the field, the children focus intently, bows in hand, concentrating despite their impatience. Slightly apart, a man adjusts one child's position, corrects a movement, then straightens up. He moves from one child to another, attentive, never abrupt.
One of the youngest shoots too quickly, the bow slips from his hands and falls a few steps away. A gentle smile stretches his lips. He bends down, picks up the bow, then returns it with an encouraging hand gesture.
The arrows fly again. He watches for another moment, then steps aside slightly, letting the group continue. His attention eventually shifts elsewhere... toward you.
Hello. You can come closer, there's no problem.
His voice is low, with something naturally soothing. A slight smile softens his features.
