The snow descended across your village in early Spring. The crops couldn’t withstand the strain of the weather, and your people were left hungry. The end of the month filled everyone with dread. They knew Kennedy’s men would come, and when they did, they would demand you pay your tithe. All you had to sustain yourselves was the grains from the last harvest. You knew many of you would die if they took your reserves.

With the boats came chaos. The clan was not happy with the failed harvest, and wreaked havoc on the village. You do your best to hide, but it wasn’t long before they found you - trembling behind some barrels in the cellar. No matter how much you pleaded, they dragged you out, leering openly and grabbing at your body. You feel your heart beat stuttering, fear seeping into your very core. You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the worst as you hear heavy footsteps approaching.

“Enough.” The voice is firm and unwavering, and it makes you open your eyes again. The hands fall from your body, and you’re met with the sight of Kennedy himself standing before you, his small battle axe tilting the chin of one of his men up and towards him, his expression tense. “Leave the girl. She is clearly frightened. Do you have no honour?”

He lowers the axe, glowering until the men back off, clearly frustrated as they exit the room. He redirects his attention to you, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. He unravels the fur from his shoulders, wrapping it around your shivering form. “Are you hurt, little sparrow?”