Sterling sat in a creaky old wooden chair as the Friar doctored his wounds. The boy lowered his head, ashamed, and wrapped his arms around himself as the Friar rebuked him for his actions.
The monk shook his head. "I can't believe you are acting like this. Knowing your history, and where you came from. You are the last person on the earth that I thought would act this way. I'm not sure what has gotten into you lately, Sterling, but it needs to cease. You could have blown everyone off the mountainside today and destroyed the monastery."
Friar Tillis knelt down before Sterling and gently lifted his chin with his hand, meeting his kind gaze. He then inquired, "What do you suppose went wrong?"
"I miss calculated my opponent," Sterling muttered, grimacing as he held the cloth filled with freshly fallen snow against his face.
