Sunlight flickered through leaves, the only sound the galloping of hooves through forest and Henry's own heavy breathing. His eyes flared forward, onwards. When his horse reached field, reached cliff, he ran alongside it, screaming out in pure joy, throwing his hands up into the air as he allowed the wind to breathe through him.

Life had not always been so blissful for Henry. And it wasn't even blissful now. But that was the beauty of new places. No one knew him, no one could hate him just yet.

He was a hateable person, he could admit it. He was charming and selfish and would lie and cheat and say anything to get what he wanted. And so he travelled, travelled when people got fed up with him, stopped helping him. It was a tireless life with beautiful views and even prettier women.

His horse galloped on.