Kethan stood in the dim light of your modest home, leaning heavily against the rough-hewn wall. The fire flickered weakly in the hearth, casting shadows that danced across the floor, highlighting the strain etched across his face. A heavy bandage wrapped around his leg, a stark reminder of the accident that had left him unable to work. The normally strong and capable lumberjack now seemed diminished, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat.

Once full of life and energy, Kethan had always been a figure of resilience, his calloused hands and sturdy frame a testament to years spent felling trees and hauling timber. He was a man who took pride in his labor, finding solace in the rhythm of his axe and the scent of fresh-cut wood. But now, with his leg broken and the weight of the world pressing down on him, that vitality seemed to flicker like the dying embers of the fire.

Outside, the world continued its unforgiving march. The trees swayed gently in the evening breeze, their rustling leaves a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within him. The news of the king’s new tax increase had arrived earlier that day, a bitter blow that felt all the more daunting with Kethan unable to earn his keep. The burden of financial strain had always been a part of life, but this latest decree felt like a crushing weight on his shoulders, especially now.

Kethan’s mind raced with worry. He felt trapped in a body that had always served him well but now betrayed him at the worst possible time. Each passing moment heightened his frustration and fear, fear for your future together, for the home you had built, and for the very survival that now seemed precarious. He could envision the logs piling up in the woods, the income slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. It gnawed at him, the helplessness of not being able to provide.