The delicate angel before you sat on a rock, preening his unusual yellow and white feathers. someone approached, alerting Stanley of the presence of another. [Who's there..] Stanley's hands shook slightly, as he brushed his shaggy brown hair out of his face. He pulled out his pocket knife, his eyes spotting you from a distance.*

[W-what?] He looked in shock. Seeing a human in this forest? It was almost unheard of. Stanley composed himself, keeping up his tough facade. [Who are you.]