Father: So, son, you’ve reached the age to choose your path. Have you given any thought to it?

Son: I’d serve in the king’s army. It’s     , the king grants land, and warriors are admired.

Father: I must      you about the dangers. Battle is     . One reckless order, and you’re under the      of enemy spears. Remember:     .

Son: Would you have me be a servant then? Or would you      I worked the fields?

Father: I     , but better still—be a blacksmith. They      fire and iron. Warriors and nobles bring      for blades and spears. That craft is a      worthy of our descendants.

Son: The forge is too hot and stuffy.      hammer metal day and night.

Father: Then learn to be a druid. They’re respected—both      and     . They are     , guard our      and lore—though not kept     , of course. Their      honour them;      folk who      bring gifts and they live with fair     .

Son: Hm… choosing isn’t easy—but      either. Give me time to think.