In the forest located a few kilometres off the English town Grace sat on one of the many large rocks by a small waterfall. She watched the blue tinted water fly off the stream that made it place on the cliff, twisting from so far away that Grace had yet to discover it's roots. The water fly down a so s cliff crashing into a lake which took a light brown appearance from the soft brown sand at the bottom. She sighed allowing the drops of water that bounced from the waterfall to land on her long white dress and pale face, feeling the sun that fell through the leaves on the trees on her back and wings with a soft heat.

Richard was up early, as usual, for his common walk around the town. He walked slowly, holding his hand behind his back whistling a small tune. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining which, in Richard's eyes, gave the town an unusual yet beautiful glow that rainy England barely held. He smiles as he approaches the main road in which small shops sat side by side, stepping out of the way for a large carriage which, with no doubt, would be holding another nobleman.