In slow motion, Daerundros beheld the chaos-of-an-argument happening before her. Her eyes flicked towards her counterpart Minyelaírë as her left hand shot up to the small and readied hand crossbow on her side. With a swift movement, less than a second, she had fired it. Amlarad staggered as the bolt cleanly penetrated his thigh. He grimaced in severe pain and doubled over, helpless on the snow.
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