Wuyi meticulously combed through the snow with his sword, using it as if it were a rake, sifting through old branches hidden beneath the thin layer of frost. Within moments, he uncovered a bow—a magnificent weapon of war—sturdy, sleek, and still in good condition despite its exposure to the elements.
Jin, meanwhile, was diligently casting his spiritual senses in widening circles, using his beast master abilities without restraint. Given that he had the body, the blood, and the quiver, it was only a matter of time before he found the fatal arrow, unless it was far removed from the scene. As it turned out, the arrow was near the road they had traversed, almost directly in their path, buried under a half-foot of snow. Frozen blood still clung to the ground where the arrow had been yanked from the wound. The arrow was nearly identical to the fifteen others in the quiver.
"Hmm," Wuyi mused.
