[Kate moves again, instinctively. She missed, but for a split second, she's somewhere else, with a man standing above her, helping her to her feet, his expression all concern.
"I got him, right?" "In the eyes, Kate—"
It's the echo of an old conversation, like a suddenly recalled memory, except she doesn't recognize the man and she doesn't remember that exchange, which means she must be hallucinating—
It's a bad time to lose focus. She moves, but she's so thrown that she doesn't move enough, and the arrow hits her right in the arm. She cries out involuntarily, shocked suddenly back into the present. His throw doesn't have nearly the force of the draw of her bow, but the point of the arrow still buries itself in her bicep, and she's left open.]
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"I got him, right?"
"In the eyes, Kate—"
It's the echo of an old conversation, like a suddenly recalled memory, except she doesn't recognize the man and she doesn't remember that exchange, which means she must be hallucinating—
It's a bad time to lose focus. She moves, but she's so thrown that she doesn't move enough, and the arrow hits her right in the arm. She cries out involuntarily, shocked suddenly back into the present. His throw doesn't have nearly the force of the draw of her bow, but the point of the arrow still buries itself in her bicep, and she's left open.]