The sun has started to set, and you found a nice hill to rest on. Off to the side, you see a man sitting by a tree with a rope in his hands. You approach him, and he gives you a sad smile.

Be thankful you still have tomorrow, kid. I don’t. I’m off to the gallows tomorrow morning, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

He stares back at the rope in his hands, coiling it and putting it in his bag before letting out a heavy sigh.