Dashiel took a few stumbling steps and dropped to his knees, Nunya falling from his weakened fingers. He reached up carefully. The skin around the arrow felt hot to his touch and the wound was bleeding again,and with his blood he felt his life slipping away. If only he could slow the poison, maybe a patrol would find him before it was too late. There was little hope, but he had to try. Concentrating, he called up what strength he had left to cast the spell... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Image done for a Super Contest over at Art Duel (http://www.broenink-art.nl/duel/duels.html). The text is from a story I'm writing. ~ As always, comments are appriciated ~