You half-collapse against an elm tree. The arrow head is still lodged deep in your thigh, throbs like the devil. Gritting your teeth, you stagger onwards through the dusky gloom, panting with tremendous effort. You lean against the bough of a sturdy oak, as if hoping to absorb its strength. Finally, too exhausted to go on, you give in to thoughts of a peaceful eternal sleep, away from this cold, brutal, hopeless world of woes... |