Mikhail looked at the scene tiredly.
Tybalt looked at the scene with shock.
Mercutio looked at the scene with horror.
Benvolio looked at the scene with anger.
And Romeo…
Romeo was dead. The beak of the beast had torn a hole through his head. And the light of life was already gone from his eyes.
"You bastard!"
Benvolio rapidly nocked an arrow, and took aim at the beast's eye. In an instant, he had drawn back the bowstring by its full length, his fingers getting a minor cut from the effort.
And then, he released the arrow.
It shot through the short distance in the blink of an eye, impaling itself in the neck of the beast. It had quickly moved its head, knowing full well the dangers of a bow and arrow.
Romeo's body flailed lifelessly as a result, stirring Benvolio's rage further. He was downright inflamed. And so, yet another arrow got nocked.
But these two were not the only players on the field.
