Life can be ironic, for the crimson haired boy, that statement defined this part of his life perfectly.

Whenever he tried to think of his past, he was met with a cloudy haze of confusion, though there was one thing he could clearly remember- the orphanage.

Out of all the other children, no one ever seemed to want him. Not to say he was a bad child, in fact, he was very well behaved. He never caused trouble, and did all of his chores. The only problem was he never interacted with the other kids, taking to practicing with his toy bow rather than play.
When the boy turned thirteen the rather small orphanage no longer had any room for all of the children, so he decided to leave and fend for himself.
As a parting gift they gave him a real bow, one he could use to protect himself from bandits and anyone else who wished ill upon him.
It was a rather plain bow, but the boy loved it none the less.
He wasn't much of a traveler when he was alone, taking to one place and settling in.

He had his own little slice of forest, living in a tree house. It was primitive, but it worked. He was kept away from the ground and sheltered from the harsh elements, so it fit him just fine.

Over time he made friends with some of the nearby animals, becoming a sort of 'modern Tarzan', a Tarzan with Crimson hair that beckoned to touch the ground, a blue tunic protected his being, with dirty cargo pants, and brown boots.

Once in a while a passerby would come through, but as long as they held no bad intentions he would let them on their way, remaining unnoticed in the cover of the trees.

Occasionally after target practice he would need to go to the local town to buy more arrows, as he had a tendency to run out of them quite easily. He didn't have expensive tastes, thankfully. He wasn't one of the people that needed fancy iron tipped arrows, in fact, he was happy with steel ones. As long as it worked, he would buy it. Why spend all his money on something that was the same as something he could get for a much cheaper price? It didn't make much sense to him.

"Hey! Hey, shit head!" An irritating voice rang out, causing him to sigh wearily in annoyance. Travelers weren't the only people to pass through the forest. Thieves were also a common sight. And the boy always did his best to help those in need as long as they had good intentions, something robbers clearly lacked.

"I remember you! You're that Ranku kid, the freak who lives in the woods! You stopped me from stealing from that family, you little runt!"

"So what if I did?" Came the reply. "After all, your so weak anyone could kick your ass. Hmmm is this my fun of the day?"

Ranku learned how to be nimble from living in the forest which always came in handy, especially if someone tries to stab you with a knife, that lesson comes in handy in these situations. He ducked down very quickly, and responded with a firm punch to the Achilles, causing the Urchin to crash into the clerks counter, starling the already shocked clerk. "Ha take that you son of a bitch."

A small chuckle came out of Ranku's mouth. Even in dire situations he always remained calm.

He walked slowly over to the bleeding sinner and leaned in.
"Never bear ill will to any man," He said quietly, "Or the Devil might pay you back."
And with that, he turned around and left.

Town was quite a ways away from his home in the forest, so the teen left during the day. He wanted to get back home before night.

He apologized to the clerk for the minor scuffle and the disruption, using the money the occasional grateful passerby gave him he paid for the damages and the arrows he originally came for. Even at such a young age, fifteen years, he was always kind and courteous to most people. Something Solitary taught him, something most teenagers did not know.
Of course, before he headed to the forest, he would always stop by the local food merchant's stand and pick up some seeds. He gave them to the animals around his forest home as thanks for protecting it while he was away.

By the time he returned it was already twilight and the sky was dyed blood red with streaks of vivid orange. When he finally jumped into his bed, a hammock, that was guarded by the tiny animals that inhabited the area and he had befriended.

He would give them equal amounts of seeds and watched them run away to their homes.
"Oh boy what a day... Hopefully tomorrow will be funnier."
Ranku muttered. He was exhausted, yet he had a new story to tell. He would be the only one to hear it, though.
The teen said goodnight to the forest and shut his eyes.

Rest. Rest easy child, you shall need your energy for the morning…