He notched an arrow of his own when he saw the shields raised at Jax, ready to fire a countershot, but he already knew there was no stopping them from firing first.  Even if he throttled one attempt, there would be another to finish the job, and then the scouts would turn on his position.  He pulled the bow at a full draw, at war with himself in the split second it took for an arrow to ignite and connect with its victim.  Asher's fingers trembled, now pulling hard enough to draw blood in the backside of his knuckles.  He should have fired.<br/><br/>He lowered the weapon, slowly withdrawing the arrow suspended over the trunk.  The scene had him transfixed.  The scouts pushed forward, and for one soul-shattering moment he knew he could have prevented this from happening.  He knew Jax didn't like him and he was certain the big lad would snap his neck if he could.  He didn't want Seraphina to see this.  The scouts were long gone now.  Asher slowly descended to the ground, taking unsure steps until he stood solemnly over what remained of Jax.  There was little he could do for him.  He had little time.<br/><br/>"I'll come back," he promised the charcoal mess.<br/><br/>The scouts would be closing in soon, and Asher probably wouldn't make it to her settlement in time.  He couldn't move quickly.  He hoped Seraphina was ready.  Maybe there was another of their patrols out there?  He started jogging, the most manageable pace he could keep without ruining his step.  The farther he went, the more he began to despair it was already over.  He hadn't run into another patrol since they killed Jax.<br/><br/>His caution was well-placed.  He could already hear the fighting before the village came into sight, and by the way things sounded, the Clan had taken them by surprise, as was likely the plan.  Asher kept to the outskirts, drawing his bow and firing at any opportunity.  His arrows connected, dropping two, three, and four bodies- but he was outnumbered.  He needed to find Seraphina, and get her out.