The year is 1194 and I was just chilling in a tree, sharpening my daggers and looking over the village of thieves. The woods we are from is said to be haunted but it’s just our folks, being lead by a man named Robin Hood. I hate him, my anger towards him is like no other.

I was drowned in my own cold and dark thoughts that I didn’t spot a girl around my age, giving blankets and food to my townsfolk and making weapons.