A/N: Who remembers that time a while back in Celtica when Gilan, Horace, and Will were discussing a matter involving a cliff, a snapped bowstring, and an angry axeman? I sure do.

~H~


As Will pulled his arrow back, the feathered shaft brushing his cheek as he pictured it protruding from the shoulder of a bandit only forty feet away, he felt a sharp slap across his arm at the same time an unmusical twang rang in the air. The arrow fell harmlessly to the ground and a burning pain flared on his forearm.

With a hissing breath, he looked at the bow in his hands; the string had snapped. On his arm, a bright red welt rose from his skin.

As the young Ranger realized all this, he noticed yet another problem: the bandit had heard the snap, could now see him, and had a friend. An axe-wielding friend.

Ah no. Will thought, jumping to his feet and starting to back away, holding a hand over his arm as the skin that had been slapped by the bowstring throbbed and burned. The axeman charged, yelling a challenge, brandishing the deadly axe of his head.

Will had nowhere to run; he'd picked this spot to hide for the cliff at his back. The bandit would have absolutely no reason o come this way, as it would only lead to a dead end.

A dead end for me, Will thought, then took off at a flat out run as the axeman bellowed in rage behind him.

Suddenly, the Ranger remembered a conversation he'd shared with Gilan and Horace a few years back, while they were combing the woods in Celtica:

"That taught us how to block a sword with two knives. But what if an axeman's coming at me?" Will asked.

Gilan looked suspicious. "An axeman? I don't recommend trying to block an axe with two knives."

But Will wouldn't take no for an answer. "But what if he's charging at me?" Horace walked over, wondering what his friend was getting at.

Gilan looked away. "Uh. . .shoot him."

Horace intervened. "Can't, his bowstring's broken."

Gilan gritted his teeth. "Run and hide."

Will kept on him. "There's a sheer cliff behind me."

Horace caught on. "There's a sheer cliff behind him, and his bowstring's broken. What should he do?"

Gilan thought for a moment. "Jump off the cliff, it'll be less messy that way."

The Ranger would've laughed if this were happening to someone else. But, unfortunately for Will, it wasn't.

At this point, he'd reached the top of the bluff and was now looking down upon a river. He hadn't know it was there before, but now it might just be enough to save his life.

But how deep is it?,Will asked himself.

Just a fraction of a second after he thought this, there was no more time for contemplation; the axeman was barreling towards him, yelling at the top of his lungs. Ducking the first swipe of the axe, Will made his decision: he leapt backward over the side of the cliff.

The axeman was left, arms still raised for a follow-up stroke of the axe, completely bewildered. After a moment, he shrugged, leaving Will to his fate. The Ranger wasn't his problem any more, he thought.

As Will hit the surface of the water, he gave a yelp of pain, instantly sucking down water as he did. He came back up, hacking and sputtering, but alive. Once he'd regained some of his breath, he swam hard for the shore on the far side of the river, then laid on his back on the sand, breathing in ragged gasps once more.

Once he could breathe correctly again, Will began to laugh. "You were right, Gil!" he said loudly, between his chuckles. "It was less messy that way!"


A/N: Yes, I know this is not an original idea, but I felt the need to write it. Deal with it.

~H~