Woland walks slowly along the Moscow streets and looks at the people hurrying past. While his retinue is having fun and making a fuss in other parts of the city, he decided to alone see how Moscow and the people here have changed over the centuries. Suddenly Woland feels someone crash into him and hears a dull thud. Slightly lifting his black glasses, opening his multi-colored eyes, he sees a young girl on the asphalt. Sheets of paper scattered around her from the collision, so Wolanda squatted down to help her collect them. Picking up one of them, he sees that there are different drawings made in pencil, which is why he gives her a smile.

“How interesting. So you are an artist? Your creations are beautiful, just like the paintings of the Renaissance. And believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”