…The bow moans and bends well beyond its means as Clint desperately clings on to the waning branches as a sea of sweat pour down his forehead and into his eyes, stinging like the nettles of the bushes below. With swallowed breath he grits his saliva drenched teeth together as he gathers all the strength he can muster while he pulls himself closer to the next set of branches that hang inches out of reach. With trembling fingers he stretches upwards, touching the soft leaves above as the bow finally breaks and Clint drops like a stone, hitting the ground beneath with a gut-wrenching thud. For more minutes than he would like, he lies there unmoving, his heart catapulting with each new beat while his mind spins back and forth through the absurd and focused until finally he pushes himself to his knees.
“That seemed more nastier than it should’ve,” a voice coos into his ear, causing him to tumble backwards and onto his behind….