Bows and Crossbows
His life ended with one twang of my bow
He drew back the bow and took careful aim at his target
The arrow took her in the knee and she crumpled to the ground
He broke the shaft off and pulled the rest of the arrow clean through
The arrow took her in the arm, pinning her to the tree
One creak of the wood, one twang of the string, and it went flying
Everything with the bow had to be one shot, one kill
It was hunting season all over again—only this time, the prey walked on two legs
Dumbstruck, he stared at the feathered shaft protruding from his chest
He pulled back his bow and the sky rained death
No arrow was faster, no kill cleaner than by his hand
A feathered shaft sprouted from his eye as if by some dark magic
Taken through the neck, the sentry toppled silently over the wall
He had been impaled on a forest of arrows, yet still clung feebly to life
An arrow through the heart ended her love
Bow in hand, he stalked through the long, dark woods
By the time the archer was through, the man was a human pincushion
The arrows screamed and the sky grew black with death
A rain of arrows fell upon their heads
There was that awful twang and then the arrow found him
A snapped bowstring was the least of his worries
Whizzing, screaming death flew in those feathered shafts
The whiz and twang of the bow brought death
The well-arrowed corpse tumbled from the wall into the waiting moat
The shaft stuck out of him like an exclamation point
The arrow's fletching was unmistakably eagle's feather
The arrows flew overhead, thick as thieves in the night
Arrows fell in a cold steel rain
The archer's quiver was nearly exhausted
He planted arrows in the dirt in a semicircle, so they'd be ready to fire
The bolt struck the man in the chest and he went down gasping
The crossbow strummed its deadly chord
A bolt shot him through the heart
The drawstring hummed, spitting death
He pulled back the heavy drawstring and slid the bolt into place
She watched her prey through the scope of her crossbow
Crossbow clutched firmly to her breast, she vowed courage
She pulled the trigger and watched the bolt strike him dead
The bullet-headed bolt bit into his neck
A barbed bolt transfixed him
She raised the crossbow pistol and aimed for his chest
His finger convulsed on the trigger, driving the bolt home
He grabbed a bolt to reload
The crossbow bolt skimmed by, startling him
Her shot spiked him to the tree
The bolt punched through his chest with a sickly thunk