The Fall of the Hero

As the darkness closed in around him, Robin Hood's world went silent. He was vaguely aware of his body hitting the forest floor, but he couldn't muster the energy to care. His illness had finally caught up with him, and he was paying the price for ignoring his body's warnings. Meanwhile, John and Little John, affectionately known as Tuck, were on a scouting mission, making their way through the forest with a quiet ease that only came from years of practice. They had been tasked with gathering information on the movements of the Sheriff of Nottingham's men, and they took their job very seriously. As they rounded a bend in the path, they stumbled upon a familiar figure lying on the ground. At first, they thought it was just a bundle of discarded clothing, but as they drew closer, they realized with a start that it was Robin Hood. "Great heavens!" John exclaimed, rushing to Robin's side. "What's happened to him?" Tuck dropped to his knees beside John, his face etched with concern. "He's out cold," he said, gently feeling for a pulse. "And he's burning up with fever." John's face darkened with worry. "We have to get him back to camp," he said, already assessing the situation. "He can't stay out here like this." Tuck nodded, and together they carefully rolled Robin onto his back. They examined him for any injuries, but it seemed that he had simply collapsed from exhaustion and illness. As they worked, Robin stirred, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. John and Tuck exchanged a worried glance, but they didn't hesitate. "We've got you, Rob," John said, his voice soft and reassuring. "We're going to get you back to camp and get you fixed up." With that, they carefully lifted Robin into a makeshift stretcher, fashioned from a combination of branches and cloaks. As they began the slow and bumpy journey back to the outlaw camp, Tuck couldn't resist teasing his friend. "Looks like the great Robin Hood has been felled by a simple cold," he said, chuckling. John shot him a warning glance, but Robin, still half-conscious, managed a weak smile. He tried to protest, but his voice was barely audible. Tuck continued to jest, trying to keep Robin's spirits up despite his dire condition. "I told you, Rob, you're not as young as you used to be. You should have stayed in bed this morning." Robin attempted to defend himself, but his words were lost in a fit of coughing. John and Tuck exchanged a knowing glance, and for a moment, they just smiled. As they carried their ailing leader through the forest, they chatted and joked, trying to distract Robin from his misery. Tuck even broke into a silly song, much to John's amusement. "Oh, Robin Hood, the hero bold, Felled by a cold, his story's told, He should have stayed in bed, you see, But now he's paying the price, miserably." Robin Hood, despite his condition, couldn't help but laugh, a weak and raspy sound that only encouraged his friends to continue teasing him. But deep down, they were relieved to have their leader safe and sound, and they knew that with a bit of care and attention, he would be back to his old self in no time.