I watch him being hit as if in slow motion, the blood flowing in the air like fire sparks, but even the image does not help me to move forward and rescue him, on the contrary, it only adds to my panic when I can only widen my eyes and clench my claws on the earth before leaping as I hear the metal break skin, cutting flesh and muscle all the way in and around his shoulder with a slicing sickening sound.
For a moment the mere image paralyzes me in place, but as the string of a bow being pulled all the way back only for the apparent stillness explode in a mere second to shoot the deadly arrow out, the next millisecond I dash towards him right at the other edge of the battlefield.
But of course one cannot simple strode around a battle and expect it to be as smooth as a walk in the park.