The grassfields rolled like a green sea beneath a wide, untroubled sky, the kind of sky that belonged to old songs and quiet prayers.
Dandelions crowded the earth, their yellow heads bright as coins spilled from a king's purse.
Ding!
Somewhere far off, a village bell tolled the hour, as faint steps could be heard in the distance.
"Hehehe!" Gray ran ahead, his boots thudding softly against the ground, his cloak half-slipped from one shoulder.
He skidded to a stop and turned, arms spread wide as if daring the world to catch him.
"You're slow, Sera!" he called, grinning widely.
Behind him, Seraph, Sera, huffed and chased after him, skirts gathered in her hands.
Her silver hair streamed loose behind her, catching sunlight and wind alike.
She was smiling too, bright and breathless, though her eyes never left Gray, not even when her foot caught on a tuft of grass and she nearly fell.
Gray was there instantly, grabbing her wrist and steadying her posture.
