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“One shot- one shot straight through that golden eye. A plume of blood splattering the snow, a thud of a heavy body, a sigh of wind. No. It wasn't a wolf that hit the snow- no, it was a man, tall, and well formed. No- not a man. A High Fae, with those pointed ears. I blinked, and then- then my hands were warm and sticky with blood, then his body was red and skinless, steaming in the cold, and it was his skin- his skin- that I held in my hands, and-” — Sarah J. Maas
One shot- one shot straight through that golden eye.
A plume of blood splattering the snow, a thud of a heavy body, a sigh of wind. No.
It wasn't a wolf that hit the snow- no, it was a man, tall, and well formed. No- not a man. A High Fae, with those pointed ears.
I blinked, and then- then my hands were warm and sticky with blood, then his body was red and skinless, steaming in the cold, and it was his skin- his skin- that I held in my hands, and-