Well, [ he says, and he senses movement behind them; he rises to a knee, ] I think we're fucked.
[ On reflex he grabs an arrow from his quiver, turns, aims, and shoots, and even with the unsteadiness of his limbs, he manages to catch one of the bandits in the gut. Peter seriously feels sick, like he's about to throw up, and he's sweating now, his body too fucking hot and every nerve is starting to scream.
Four bandits running at them, then. Better than five. His hands are shaking as he nocks another arrow, but his aim isn't as true this time-- something hot shoots up his spine and his shot goes wild. ]
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[ On reflex he grabs an arrow from his quiver, turns, aims, and shoots, and even with the unsteadiness of his limbs, he manages to catch one of the bandits in the gut. Peter seriously feels sick, like he's about to throw up, and he's sweating now, his body too fucking hot and every nerve is starting to scream.
Four bandits running at them, then. Better than five. His hands are shaking as he nocks another arrow, but his aim isn't as true this time-- something hot shoots up his spine and his shot goes wild. ]
Little help?