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Hob was glad to have someone tell him what to do. Doing what he had been told to do was what he was best at and in some strange way, it comforted him. Grabbing an arrow from the quiver he had hastily slung over his shoulder, he stopped and aimed for one of the dogs that trapped Gorby, Daisy and Cedric. He pulled back and let it loose, but the dog moved and the arrow continued. Hob could barely look as it carried on towards his friends, he prayed that it wouldn't hit any of them. For once in what seemed like an age, fortune was on his side and the arrow ended its flight lodged in a tree some yards away. Gorby was barely aware that his arm had nearly been skewered.
Hob toko a deep breath of relief and drew another arrow out. This time he was less hasty in letting the arrow fly, despite their situation. He hit. Daisy looked up from the dog that was now yelping in pain with an arrow in its back and nodded in thanks to Hob. But Hob had seriously injured the dog, it wouldn't last for much longer and it wanted to take Hob with it. Hob drew his final arrow from his quiver but had no time to do anything with it as the dog ran and stumbled toward him.
He waited for the dog to come close enough then he rammed the arrow into its open mouth. The dog fell limp almost immediately and Hob dropped it. It reminded him of a stray dog that Hob and the others in his road had befriended when they were young. He was thankful that that dog had ended its days in a better way.
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