He stopped dead. "Tessa told you?" he said.
Jem drew the bow back and let the arrow fly; it struck the creature on the side. The massive demon worm writhed in agony, undulating, as it swept its great, blind head from side to side, uprooting shrubbery with its thrashings. Leaves filled the air and the boys choked on the dust, Gideon backing up with his seraph blade in hand, trying to see by its light.
"It's coming toward us," he said in a low voice.
And indeed it was, the arrow still protruding from its wet, grayish skin, humping its body along with incredible speed. A flick of its tail caught the edge of a statue, sending it flying into the dry ornamental pool, where it shattered into dust.
"By the Angel, it crushed Sophocles," noted Will. "Has no one respect for the classics these days?'
Will's hands looked brown and sunburnt by contrast, their finger dovetailed together like piano keys.
In all my previous encounters with Will, he has worn pants.
“Do you think there’s a chance for him?”Source: Cassandra Clare
“A chance for who?”
“Will. To be happy.”
“Is there a chance for you to be happy if he isn’t?”