'I should get out of here,' He said, bowing his head as he wrapped the arrowhead tightly with twine. 'A few days ago, a group of mercenaries passed by. They were in need of an archer, and I believe I can fill that role. 'We'll be traveling through a vast desert, then on through layers of towering forest, and ultimately arrive at a northern city. 'It's a snowy place, and even wearing several layers, you'll still shiver from that winter cold. 'I can make new friends there, and save enough money to buy a huge house to share with my loved ones. 'I should get out of here. It's too hot, everyone's always sweating. 'Life's pretty boring, too. The only thing there is to do is chase the animals around every day. 'I believe I'm meant for more. What do you think?' He swung the arrow a few times before nocking it gently into the bow. The arrow flew off into the distance, beyond the reach of his sight. 'You should get out of here,' He bowed his head and refused to answer as he continued chopping wood with his axe. 'In a few days, a group of mercenaries will come, and they are in need an archer. I think you're perfect for the job. 'You'll travel through a vast forest, traverse fields of waving wheat, and ultimately arrive at a small town in the south. 'It rarely snows there, and the trees stay green, even in winter. It's warm enough wear only a single layer of clothing. 'You'll make new friends there, save some money, and maybe even find a lady to spend your life with. 'You shouldn't stay here. It's too cold, and snowstorms come in the winter. 'Look around you. There's nothing to do here. The only thing that comes close is hunting. 'I believe you're meant for more. What do you think?' He weighed the axe in his hand and carefully placed it atop the pile of wood. He remained silent and merely rubbed his teeth against his lip. He kept at it for a while, enjoying the sweet, tangy taste in his mouth. Finally, he spoke. 'No, I'm fine here. I should stay.' 'What are you even staying for?' 'I'm waiting.' 'For what?' He fell silent again. He had no answer to this question. For the storms to subside? For the snow to melt? Or maybe only for an arrow, shot by a young boy, to break the bounds of time and space, with the courage of ignorance and naive bravado, tearing through the layers of his life's disguises, to pierce his very heart. Then, his heart would shatter, only to light up once more, filled with warmth anew.