Every Night Has Its Dawn
It had been decades since Allan A Dale had last stepped foot inside Nottinghamshire. Of course, he'd had no reason to - the days of Robin Hood, the camp in Sherwood Forest and all who had been associated with it were long gone, along with anyone likely to recognise him from it. That was the way he preferred it, and why he never stayed in one place for any considerable amount of time. The thought made him laugh. It was remarkably similar to the way he'd lived his life a long time ago, making money from his tricks and petty thievery around England. As for the moment, he wandered the forest with the moon high in the sky and peering through the thick leaves. His hunger wasn't bothering him, given how recent his last meal had been, and his meandering path drew him in one particular direction. A place where a dark old manor had been, and a woman who'd made him question many things about his life and his attitudes. Allan smiled wryly at the memories as the house came into view, distinct against the darkness of the sky.