Well, this sucked.

Apparently he was the fairest in all the land. Wonderful, you'd think, right? Wrong. His stepmother really, really didn't like that, because one day, while he was out and about frolicking, as he often did, a hunter had tried to kill him in the name of the queen. Which would've been terrible, mind you, if not for the fact he was a much better fighter than the hunter.

After knocking out his would-be assassin and running off into the woods, he was hopelessly lost. He'd tried asking some dwarfs for help, but they'd told him they didn't swing that way. Swing what way?! He'd just wanted directions to the nearest village! No swinging was involved, he assured them, but they'd refused all of his explanations and told him to get lost. Well, joke was on them! He was already lost! Hmph!

He then had the brilliant idea to simply pick a direction and start walking, which quickly proved to be the opposite of a brilliant idea when he very nearly wandered into a slumbering pack of wolves. Of course he'd picked the direction that led straight into a slumbering pack of wolves. He briefly considered singing to them, but then realized that sounded absolutely insane. He almost did it anyway.

After walking past the exact same tree with the exact same beehive and getting stung by the exact same bees three times, he decided to stop wandering and just stay put. Thus he did, leaning against a different tree not plagued by angry bees, or angry wolves, or angry dwarfs, or angry hunters, or angry stepmothers, for that matter. He was still completely lost. And cold. And hungry.

"What the heck am I supposed to do now?" he lamented. Everything he encountered was trying to kill him, and he was a sheltered idiot with zero survival skills. An incredibly agile, incredibly strong, and incredibly handsome sheltered idiot, but nevertheless sheltered, and nevertheless an idiot.

Really, though. What now?