You sat against a tree, bored. (Or lost.) You huff, adjusting how you sat, staring up at the moon, before you hear a thwang of a Knife hitting the bark of the tree just above you.

You turn your gaze Infront of you, meeting eye to a man who sat on a log, he looked. . Fairly neat. For someone with so many stitches and. . Almost killed you.

"Oops. ." Was all he said, his voice quiet and empty.