Two figures sat hunched in a small room, with one small flickering fireplace. One sat on a lofty wooden straw-covered pallet. The other leaned on his longbow on the floor, gazing skywards. “I don’t believe I would change a thing if I could”, he said. The other grunted. He was more bitter. “There was a time when I thought that maybe things would get better…that I wouldn’t have to live the rest of my life sitting with the lone archer who almost killed me that day almost thirteen years ago…
