Dawn broke over a dense forest near Hastinapura, the sky a pale gray streaked with gold as mist wove through ancient trees. Their gnarled branches stretched high, draped with vines, and their trunks stood thick and silent, rooted deep in earth soft with moss. The air was cool and damp, carrying the sharp scent of wet leaves and the faint musk of hidden creatures stirring awake. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in thin, shimmering beams, catching the mist in a dance of light and shadow. The forest hummed with life—a rustle here, a chirp there, a living challenge waiting to unfold.
Drona led the Kuru princes into this green maze, his lean frame cutting through the fog, his tattered white robes brushing the mossy ground. His gray hair was tied back tight, and his dark eyes gleamed with a sage-like calm as he stopped beneath a towering banyan tree, its roots sprawling like a web. In one hand, he held his staff, its tip sinking slightly into the earth; in the other, he carried a bundle of small wooden discs, each painted with a red circle. The princes trailed behind, their tunics catching on thorns, their breaths puffing in the chilly air as they squinted into the mist.
Bhima stomped forward, his massive frame shaking the underbrush, his broad grin flashing white against the green. "A forest today, guru?" he said, his voice booming through the trees, startling a flock of birds into flight. "This is more like it! No boring yard, no dusty plains. What's the game? Smashing something big, I hope!"
Drona turned to him, his expression steady and unyielding, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "No smashing today, Bhima," he said, his voice calm and deep, carrying a weight that hushed the forest for a moment. "Today's about senses. Not just sight. Sound, smell, instinct. I've hidden targets in these trees, little discs like these." He held up one of the wooden circles, its red paint glinting in the dawn light. "Find them. Hit them. Use more than your eyes."
Bhima's grin widened, his hands flexing as he cracked his knuckles with a loud pop. "Sounds fun!" he said, his tone bright and eager. "I'll sniff them out like a boar rooting for truffles! Where do I start?"
"Anywhere," Drona replied, stepping back with a nod. "But move quiet. The forest listens too."
Arjuna slipped up beside Bhima, his lean form moving with a silent grace, his sandals barely rustling the moss. His tunic was smudged with dew, his bow slung across his back, and his dark eyes scanned the trees with a quiet intensity. "This is different, guru," he said, his voice soft but clear, a thread of excitement in it. "I like it. Can we use arrows right away?"
"Yes," Drona said, his gaze settling on Arjuna with a flicker of approval. "Nock them now. Feel the forest first. It'll guide you if you let it."
Yudhishthira approached more slowly, his neat tunic catching on a vine as he brushed it aside, his face warm with curiosity. "Senses beyond sight," he said, his voice gentle and thoughtful, tilting his head slightly. "That's clever, guru. How many targets are there?"
"Ten," Drona answered, planting his staff with a soft thud. "Scattered wide. Find them however you can."
Duryodhana strode up, his chin high, his dark hair glinting with mist as he crossed his arms. "Ten?" he said, his voice low and edged with a grumble, his brow furrowing. "In this fog? This is a fool's game. I'll hit one by luck if I'm stuck guessing."
"Luck's no good here," Drona replied, his tone firm and sharp, meeting Duryodhana's glare. "Skill is. Use your ears, your nose. Start now."
Nakula and Sahadeva darted forward together, their lithe forms weaving through the trees, their twin grins flashing as they grabbed their bows. "This is our kind of hunt," Nakula said, his voice quick and light, nudging his brother with an elbow. "Right, Sahadeva?"
"Definitely," Sahadeva replied, his tone swift and bright, already nocking an arrow. "Let's trick the forest. Bird calls, maybe?"
"Good idea," Nakula said, cupping his hands around his mouth and letting out a sharp, chirping whistle that echoed through the trees. "Listen for the bounce!"
The princes spread out, their footsteps fading into the mist, the forest swallowing their shapes as the trial began. Bhima charged ahead, his massive frame crashing through the underbrush, snapping twigs and rustling leaves with every step. "Come on, targets!" he shouted, his voice ringing loud, sending a squirrel scampering up a trunk. He nocked an arrow, drew his bow, and loosed it at a faint rustle, his grin wide. The arrow thudded into a tree, missing anything red, and he laughed, shaking his head. "Missed! But I'll find you yet!"
Drona watched from the banyan, his staff tapping the ground, his voice carrying over the noise. "Quieter, Bhima! You're scaring the targets, not finding them."
"Scaring them?" Bhima said, turning back with a chuckle, his breath puffing in the mist. "They're wood, guru! They don't run! I'll sniff them out, just wait!" He lumbered deeper, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air, his next arrow sailing wide into a bush.
Arjuna moved like a shadow, his steps silent on the moss, his bow drawn and ready. He paused under a twisted oak, closing his eyes for a moment, his head tilting as he listened. A faint rustle came from above, a leaf shifting in the breeze, and he opened his eyes, nocking an arrow. "There," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, loosing the shot. The arrow whistled through the mist, striking a wooden disc hidden in the branches with a sharp thud. He smiled faintly, moving on without a sound.
Yudhishthira stood still near a stream, his bow in hand, his brow furrowed as he turned his head slowly. "Sound's tricky here," he said, his voice gentle and low, speaking to himself. "Water muddies it. Maybe smell?" He sniffed the air, catching a faint whiff of paint, and aimed toward a clump of ferns. His arrow flew, grazing a disc's edge, and he nodded, pleased. "Close," he said, stepping forward to try again.
Duryodhana stalked through a thicket, his jaw clenched, his bow creaking as he drew it tight. "Stupid fog," he muttered, his voice a growl, kicking at a root. "How's anyone supposed to see in this?" He fired at a random shadow, the arrow thudding into a trunk, and cursed under his breath. Then a faint creak caught his ear, a branch bending, and he shot again. This time, the arrow hit a disc by chance, pinning it to a tree, and he smirked, straightening up. "Luck or not, that's one," he said, his tone smug and sharp.
Nakula and Sahadeva danced through the trees, their movements quick and synced, their bird calls bouncing off the trunks. "Hear that?" Nakula said, his voice low and excited, pausing as an echo returned sharper than the rest. "It's close!"
"Left," Sahadeva replied, his tone swift and sure, nocking an arrow as he turned. "High up!" They fired together, their arrows striking a disc nestled in a fork of branches, and they grinned, bumping fists. "Two more like that?" Nakula said, his eyes bright.
"Easy," Sahadeva answered, already whistling again, his grin matching his twin's.
The forest pulsed with their efforts, the mist swirling as arrows flew, some thudding into trees, others finding their marks. Bhima crashed back into view, his tunic snagged with twigs, his face red with effort. "Nothing yet!" he called, his voice loud and cheerful despite the misses. "But I scared a deer! Does that count?"
"No," Drona said, stepping forward, his staff tapping steadily. "Targets only, Bhima. Slow down. Listen."
"Listen?" Bhima said, scratching his head with a laugh. "All I hear's me! Guess I'll try sniffing again!" He lumbered off, his nose high, his next shot sailing into a pile of leaves.
Arjuna reappeared, his bow still drawn, his breath steady as he approached Drona. "Three, guru," he said, his voice soft and calm, nodding toward the trees. "Up high. The rustles gave them away."
Drona's eyes gleamed, his voice warm with pride. "Three already?" he said, stepping closer. "Good, Arjuna. You're hearing the forest. Keep going."
"Thanks," Arjuna said, his smile small but real, slipping back into the mist. "I'll find more."
Duryodhana trudged up, his smirk still in place, his bow slung over his shoulder. "One for me," he said, his voice low and grudging, brushing dirt from his hands. "This is harder than it looks. You hid them too well, guru."
"They're meant to be hard," Drona replied, his tone firm and steady, meeting Duryodhana's gaze. "Skill, not chance. Try harder."
"Chance worked fine," Duryodhana said, his smirk sharpening, turning back to the trees. "I'll get another."
Nakula and Sahadeva bounded over, their tunics damp with mist, their grins wide. "Two down, guru!" Nakula said, his voice quick and bright, holding up two fingers. "Bird calls did the trick!"
"Smart," Sahadeva added, his tone swift and cheerful, nodding at his twin. "We'll get the rest!"
"Clever boys," Drona said, his smile faint but warm, gesturing them on. "Use that teamwork. It's strong."
Yudhishthira emerged last, his bow lowered, his face calm despite the strain. "One, guru," he said, his voice gentle and honest, rubbing his arm. "Almost two. The paint smell helped."
"Smart thinking," Drona said, his tone kind and approving, clapping Yudhishthira's shoulder. "Keep at it. You're close."
The sun climbed higher, burning off the mist, and the forest grew clearer, its secrets harder to hide. Bhima thundered back, his laugh echoing as he waved his bow. "Still none!" he said, his voice loud and unbothered, wiping sweat from his brow. "But I'm having a blast! This forest's alive, isn't it?"
"It is," Drona replied, his voice steady and deep, watching Bhima with a mix of amusement and patience. "Feel it, Bhima. Stop crashing."
"I'll try," Bhima said, grinning as he lumbered off again. "Next one's mine!"
Arjuna slipped through the trees, his arrows finding two more discs, his movements a whisper against Bhima's storm. "Five now," he said, returning to Drona, his voice soft and steady, his eyes bright with focus. "The wind's helping too."
Drona nodded, his pride clear as he leaned on his staff. "Five," he said, his tone warm and firm. "You're mastering this, Arjuna. The forest's yours."
Nakula and Sahadeva added one more, their bird calls ringing out, their arrows striking true. "Three!" Nakula called, his voice quick and triumphant, high-fiving Sahadeva. "We're catching up!"
"Almost there," Sahadeva said, his grin wide, his tone bright. "Let's make it four!"
Duryodhana hit one more by chance, his smirk fading into a scowl as he trudged back. "Two," he said, his voice low and sharp, kicking at the moss. "This is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous builds skill," Drona said, his tone stern and unyielding, pointing him back. "Go again."
The trial stretched on, the forest alive with their voices—Bhima's loud cheers, Arjuna's quiet focus, Duryodhana's grumbled complaints, Yudhishthira's thoughtful murmurs, Nakula and Sahadeva's swift chatter. Drona called them back as the sun hit its peak, the mist gone, the trees standing tall and bare.
"Enough," he said, his voice ringing clear, his staff tapping once, twice. "Arjuna, five. Nakula and Sahadeva, three. Yudhishthira and Duryodhana, two each. Bhima, none."
Bhima laughed, sprawling on the moss, his chest heaving. "None's fine!" he said, his voice loud and cheerful. "I scared half the forest instead! That's a win!"
"Scaring's not the goal," Drona said, his tone dry but kind, shaking his head. "Skill is. You'll get there."
Arjuna set his bow down, his breath steady, his smile warm. "It felt right, guru," he said, his voice soft and honest. "The forest talked to me."
"It did," Drona replied, his eyes gleaming with pride, clapping Arjuna's shoulder. "You listened well."
Duryodhana crossed his arms, his scowl deep, his tone low and sharp. "Five's luck," he said, glaring at Arjuna. "I'll beat it next time."
"Try skill, not luck," Arjuna said, his voice calm and teasing, meeting Duryodhana's gaze. "It works better."
Yudhishthira smiled, brushing moss from his tunic, his voice gentle and warm. "We all learned something, guru," he said. "Even Bhima."
"Ha!" Bhima said, sitting up with a grin, his laugh echoing. "Learned I'm loud! Good enough!"
Nakula stretched, nudging Sahadeva with a grin. "Three's not bad," he said, his voice quick and light. "Next time, five?"
"Count on it," Sahadeva replied, his tone bright and swift, mirroring his twin's stretch. "We'll out-whistle Arjuna yet!"