Its wings threshed
uselessly as it tumbled on the rocky ground.
And creeping ever closer, a fox. Its eyes gleamed in
anticipation. Saliva dripped from its open mouth. The sun's rays
reflected from the glistening fangs. Brown and white matted fur
clung tightly to its body. Gaunt and hungry, its every muscle
tensed, it waited eagerly for the right moment to strike.
It crouched to spring, inched closer to its prey.
"No you don't." Demo whispered the words. Laying aside the
staff, smoothly, with hardly a thought, Demo drew an arrow from
its pouch. Notching it to the string he drew the bow.
Even as he did so the fox sprang, jaws open wide.
With a whistle the arrow flew through the air!
The fox, startled, twisted to avoid the danger.
Too late!
The arrow struck him at the peak of his leap. It struck high on
his haunch, cut deep into the upper leg. The arrow's force
knocked the animal sideward, and he fell short of his victim.
Even as the fox fell the world burst asunder in a thunderclap
of sound. The force of a sudden wind drove Demo to his knee,
almost stunned.
He froze in that position, starred in consternation at the
scene in front of him.
Where the fox had fallen an imp stands, looking at him in
anger. It's hand pulls dagger from sheath. The long twisted
blade is raised threateningly. Demo takes another arrow from the
quiver.
A louder blast of thunder feels the air and the imp looks up in
fear.
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