Raven's shirt clung wetly to his side; without moving, he knew what that meant. But when he did try to move-! The pain was enough to take his breath away, and his opponent saw that.

"Better let it be, Old Man." The tone was mocking. "You're not up for this."

The archer didn't answer, instead focusing on the girl. Her eyes were wide and frightened, focused intently on him. Now, of all times, she turned to him. Not that he could have walked away in any case; despite what they sometimes thought of him, he was an honourable man at heart. Maybe it was artificial, but he did have one….

"You can't be serious. You really want to do this?"

The truth was, Raven didn't. No matter what he chose, he'd lose one or both of them. Unfortunately, he couldn't see any other way out. Resigned, he raised his bow--and couldn't keep a pained noise from escaping.

"You're weak."

And getting weaker all the time, but he wouldn't admit it, even if the fact was self-evident. He notched an arrow, and sighted his target. Grey… and the world started to go grey, as well. He staggered, releasing the tension on the bowstring as he did.

"You keep saying that you're too old for this. Maybe you're right. Or maybe, all this time, you've just been a coward."

Of all things, that was the one that provoked him to speech. "Coward, huh? 'Least I'm not the one hidin' behind a child." Raven knew she'd hate that, but it was the only way he could think to make his words as cutting as the ones that had been thrown at him. Naturally, the attempt failed--his heart wasn't in it.

"Hiding? No, I'm not hiding. I'm giving you a choice."

"This is yer idea of a choice?"

"I didn't say it was a good one."

"No." Raven lifted the bow again, drawing as he sighted. "But if ya were countin' on me not bein' able ta make it, yer wrong." His arm shook slightly, and he could feel the blood running down his side… was sure that he could hear it spattering on the ground.

"You don't have time. If you do this, you'll die."

He hesitated then, and started to lower his weapon--just long enough for his opponent to become over-confident and loosen his grasp on the girl. One instant was all Raven needed; he brought his bow up, sighted, and released.

As the archer fell to his knees, he heard her scream. Perversely, it was a good sound; if he had missed, she wouldn't have been able to. He'd heard the sound of the arrow's entry, sickeningly familiar; through the eye, into the brain, instant death.

But given what he had done, he was not sorry that his own was surely soon to follow.

Another scream, distant… and this one came from him.