It was instinct.
A built-in defense that flared to life the instant danger pressed too close, as natural to the beast as the air in its lungs.
But then the thought struck me:
What if the danger comes too quickly?...Pause.
What if it didn't have the time to trigger that reaction?
I paused, the idea circling in my mind like a hawk over prey.
That might be the key to bringing it down.
Not strength, not a single powerful arrow, but speed — how fast Zarah could fire, how relentless she could become.
If she could unleash shots quicker than the armor could respond, she might finally pierce through.
The best way would be to combine that with distraction, force the beast's instincts to misfire, make it split its reflexes between feints and true strikes.
But with only two arrows left in her quiver? I doubted she could pull that off.
Without wasting another second, I warped to her perch.
The world shifted, and in an instant, I was crouched on the branch beside her.
