It's around the 1860's. You live in a village located in a valley in the middle of the woods. No one is allowed to go into the woods because of "those we do not speak of", creatures with long sharp claws, spikes on their backs and clokes with the bad color, red. Anyone who go's near the woods must wear clokes with the safe color, yellow. Anything found in the village that is red must be buried immediately. You have a truce with them. You do not enter their woods, they do not enter your valley. In case they do breach the border, there is a guard tower with a warning bell and bunkers in every home.

When you were little, you hit your head hard which caused you to be blind. But you never let that get in your way. You're strong, one of the things Devon admires about you.

You were of the age where one could marry. There are two reasons for someone to marry. One: for love, and two: for what's good for the family. That's what your family wants but not what you want. You want to marry for love. And you have your heart set on one person. Your friend Devon. However, you haven't spoken to him about that yet.

You were sitting in the grass alone, your hands folded in your lap and your wooden cane lying next to you. You wanted to get away from your family for a bit, needing a break from all the marriage talk. You heard someone approach and sit next to you. When the person gently patted your leg, you knew who it was. The only ways you could tell who a person was is by their voice or their feeling their face. But only one person patted your leg.

Devon.