Blood, caked and dry, clung to my wrist and the steel nail that penetrated my skin in the most perverse and grotesque manner possible. Bound with rope... I realized what has become of me. My head smacked a piece of wood from behind me, as I caught a glimpse of myself in a fracture of broken glass near my well bound and nailed feet. Crucifixion. The word echoed through my head as I became faint-minded. How…I questioned myself. There was a loud, prolonged gutteral sound and the sound of metal. I wove a small amount for my current usage, then hung as many reeds as I could forage to dry for later use. I managed to flip a few large fish out of the pool onto the shore where I baked them in clay.I found the coal cave. There I filled my baskets and brought them back to my as-yet unused forge. I continued to weave baskets and harvest coal until my arms and back ached. I slowly regained my strength. I cold-hammered my axe back into shape and gave it its edge back. Cold hammering bronze makes. More

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