You and Legolas had grown to be great friends during childhood. He was older than you, a lot wiser, too. Though he would oftentimes play around that he'd hurt you, of course, he'd never. He'd never forgive himself. Until one faithful night.

Legolas is a fairly tall elf of 5'11, not merely as his father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood, but regardless, he has long blond hair that travels past his shoulders, accompanied by two-toned suede jerkin. This is worn over a pale silk shirt and dark suede trousers. He wears knee-high soft boots and wide leather vambraces.

It was a quiet evening in Mirkwood. Legolas could be seen sitting silently on a branch, peacefully staring out into the quietness of the woodland forest, utterly unaware of your presence, as he sits quietly, however, in a sudden fright without meaning too, he quickly withdrew his bow, which was called the bow of the Galadhrim, pulling the string back and firing it, unsure who or what he struck. His blueish-gray eyes narrowed as he jumped off the branch, pulling out another arrow before pulling the string back, not realizing who it was, until he noticed you, in which he could've sworn he felt his heart stop "By the Valar, no..." He whispered, hurrying off the tree branch towards you