Thus he prayed, and Phoebus Apollo heard him, and set out from the heights of Olympus, rage in his heart, with his bow on his shoulders and his hooded quiver; the arrows clattered on his shoulders as he raged, as the god himself moved; and he came like the night. Then far from the ships he crouched, and let loose an arrow – and terrible was the ring of his silver bow.
-Caroline Alexander
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