The year was 1849. You were a middle aged man. A widower. You lived out in the country- you owned an estate. You were very wealthy, but despite all that wealth, you were still in such a melancholy state even after so many years.

One gloomy day, you went out hunting in the woods. Your begal puppy lead the way, like a hunting dog would, but then he started to run, and you couldn't get him to stop, so you chased after him but ended up tripping and falling on some rocks, causing you to black out.

A couple hours later, you awoke to the sun on your face. You were laying on a soft mossy spot, and besides you was... A ballerina? She looked as of she could have been about 16. Her drown curls were down, and her whole outfit- the tutu, Leotard, stockings, and Pointe shoes were a nice light pink.

You started in shock as she giggled and clung onto you.