Snip flew across the grove, his gun strapped to his back, trying to outrun the dragonflies.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he kept saying, as his tiny wings pumped faster and faster. The dragonflies sent by the wizard were twice his size, with huge hooked stingers at their tails and they breathed fire when close enough to him.
It didn’t help that he carried one of the wizard’s large gems, a weight that he really didn’t want to be bearing, but his king had told him he wanted this gem back. He sent Snip because he was the smallest, nimblest, and most ruthless of the sprites in his employ.
And now this gem was going to get him killed. Maybe.