i need to be shot with arrows in the woods and then my mortal enemy pulls me by one of the arrows stuck in my shoulder. i groan and moan in pain as they drag me until im laying on softer grass and looking up into the sky where clouds are passing by. they start pulling the arrows from my shaking body, the ones they put there in the first place, holding me close, shushing my whimpers, getting my blood all over them in the process. speeding up my inevitable demise, torturing me slowly but so so gently. we both know ill start bleeding out now. still, they give me cpr even though we both know it’s ridiculous but it’s another way to get close. grabbing at their shirt, grip getting weaker, looking at the fading light around us.