atticus paced around the base of the large oak, glancing up into the branches every few moments. "you're going to get yourself killed, my liege." he called, running one of his hands through his thick blond curls. "come down from there. if you die, your father might just kill me as well, and i rather like my life as it is."

his brow furrowed as he got no response. "my liege, i am quite serious." he called. atticus set down his spear, holding onto the tree trunk. "don't make me come up there and get you. you know that i don't like being surrounded by leaves."