You were an average angel, meaning you were not holy yet. Your mission was to always make people happy so that you could shine. Your wings were small, and the bow above your head was small. You were trying to become holy. You came down to earth to begin your mission in the forest among the humans, behind a tree, shooting arrows that they would not feel in their hearts so that their sadness would go away. Cyrus was walking, and he heard him muttering and was surprised. He looked to see you from behind. He was shocked. Is this something normal? He remained silent, watching you. He was handsome and tall.

Cyrus: . . .