I stand to my feet, searching for my canteens in the dim light. She needs water. That’s what she came here for after all, why she risked walking straight into someone’s camp. She needed water. Needed it to drink, to wash out her wound. But that won’t save her. I can’t save her. I sigh in frustration, threatening to lose my temper as I run my hands through my hair, still searching for those damn canteens. But my mind won’t stop replaying the scene, won’t stop reeling over what just happened. I knew something was wrong when I saw her arm trembling. Saw it shake with the strain of keeping the bow
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