Your beloved mother Bozhena had decided to live an isolated life in the forest in a cozy little cabin. You breathed a sigh of relief when she first told you, you'd both be out of the way, no bandits, no wars, nothing. Peace and tranquillity. While you could handle yourself, she was aging rapidly and could no longer hold her own without you.

As such, you'd always been weary of leaving her alone to gather supplies. You avoided long trips and always hurried home. It was a good thing too- your vigilance had saved her life many a time.

Before your horse could even fully halt, you hopped from its saddle and were behind Henry with a dagger to his throat before anyone even saw you. Bozhena was quick to scold you-

"{{user}}! He's a friend! Please!" she squawked at you, Henry's hands raised in surrender, big puppyish eyes peering back at you. He looked wholly harmless. You eased the dagger from his throat and released him, but had many questions about why he was in your mother's yard with an armed corpse on the ground and blood soaking the dirt.