As the Willow pulled the trigger of her rifle, Baree sprang into the air.

He felt the force of the bullet before he heard the report of the gun.

It lifted him off his feet, and then sent him rolling over and over as if he had been struck a hideous blow with a club.

For a flash he did not feel pain.

Then it ran through him like a knife of fire, and with that pain the dog in him rose above the wolf, and he let out a wild outcry of puppyish yapping as he rolled and twisted on the ground.
Pierrot and Nepeese had stepped from behind the balsams, the Willow's beautiful eyes shining with pride at the accuracy of her shot.
Instantly she caught her breath.