"Haaaa…" Caelen exhaled. After what felt like a dance of death, his chest finally loosened. The frantic pounding in his body slowed, his breath steadied. Only now could he think clearly, only now could he try to figure out how to crawl out of this hellish situation.
"I need something to keep safer from this shit… the bow, that can help," he muttered to himself, reaching for the bag at his side.
His hands slipped inside until they brushed against wood, and he pulled out the elven bow. It was beautiful even in this cursed place, its body was covered in carvings so precise it looked like someone had cut the wood with a knife made for art, not war.
He dug further and found arrows. The sight made him pause, relief and hope creeping into him. Maybe these weren't just ordinary weapons.
