Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure.

She took it. There's no turning back.

They're fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin that'll stop your heart in one minute.

Arrows and sabers, I can withstand, but the gout, it's a curse from the Eternal Blue Sky.

Earlier, it struck me Yondu didn't have a talking car but he did have a flying arrow.

So as fletchers stockpile arrows and your blacksmiths sharpen steel, you come with a bidding from your adopted master?

Assuming he were dying of something that couldn't be sexually transmitted. You know, like a spear wound to the head. Okay, he is not dying.