Slowly it fluttered down to the earth, with its life-blood pouring out of it.
Looking down upon the Arrow with which it had been pierced, it found that the haft of the Arrow had been feathered with one of its own plumes.
"Alas!" it cried, as it died,
"WE OFTEN GIVE OUR ENEMIES THE MEANS FOR OUR OWN DESTRUCTION."
- Aesop
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