Are
Armed, armored, packed and ready. Soft boots with hardened plates, hobnailed soles like the neighbor had taught him, still they gave not more than fleeting grip on the wet sands. Still, the cobbler pressed on. A man, a warrior, trudging through woods far to eager to guide him towards the long shores.
Interloper, impostor, idiot. A cobbler shivering in the skin of a Northerner, yet the warriors hand was steady as always. Steady on the shield strap, steady on the axe frog, and finally ready to spring into action should the need arise. With iron determination he followed the lights towards what he had already decided would be revenge for the last adventure into the woods. No magical fire would melt his skin, not this time!
Interloper, impostor, idiot. A cobbler shivering in the skin of a Northerner, yet the warriors hand was steady as always. Steady on the shield strap, steady on the axe frog, and finally ready to spring into action should the need arise. With iron determination he followed the lights towards what he had already decided would be revenge for the last adventure into the woods. No magical fire would melt his skin, not this time!
