She let loose the last arrow, and the back of it took off before the front.
Flying through the air, it played a game of tag with itself, flexing, bending and unbending, snaking it's way across the lawn until it burst through the target and pinned the child to the earth.
The child had been simply playing, but had wandered beyond the confines proscribed by it's parents, and - skipping between one world and the next - was wrong-footed by it's unworldliness, it's total lack of experience in the few hundred years it had spent amongst humans.
Later that night, the fireman's volley was also loosed, and in the darkness, only one would find it's mark and be let in.
Someone would have to pay for the loss of this foundling.
My Dander Is Up! - Safe in the garden? My father never backed down from a confrontation. Once a visitor to his shop called him a twat for taking his time over serving an el...
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