Odessa's attention was pulled away from the man when the fox cried out. She traced the sound only to find it bleeding on the floor, struggling amid death. A smile covered her face as she reached out to it, but something was off—the arrow—it was nowhere on the body of the bleeding fox.
She rolled her eyes into her head, recollecting how the arrow passed her, sending her to the floor. “It was blue and glittering. Was that my hallucination? I am so good at imagining things.” she scoffed and grabbed the fox, standing. “But it's bleeding so much, and this wound is an arrow shot.”
Then, she looked around the corner if she could see the arrow but saw nothing.
“Who exactly is he?” she asked herself, casting a glance backwards. “I need to ask him where the arrow went. Or, did he take it back? Bu
