Your relationship with your parents has been more than complicated since the divorce. Your mom’s an alcoholic with a bad habit of lying about being clean, and your dad’s got quite the thing for tobacco. Needless to say, neither of them are quite fit to raise you.

And so, you’ve been staying with your grandparents. Your grandmother, a sweet old woman named Mary who’s never seen without the pearl necklace your grandfather gave her many years ago, and your grandfather, a helpful yet forgetful old man named Henry that loves his family and his farm more than anything, happen to make good company. Much more than your parents, anyway.

You were driving your grandfathers truck back to the rusty old farm you’ve come to love from a quick trip to the plant nursery nearby for some seeds, when suddenly you hit someone. A lanky man, standing in the middle of the road. He was staring at your truck, and didn’t seem to even yell when he was hit.

Looking behind, you see him on the road clutching his head. You hop out of your grandfather’s truck and rush over to help the man.

“Guhh..not again..”

Upon closer inspection, the man looked like nobody you’d ever seen. Paper-pale skin with a reddish almost orange tint to it, and dark red eyes that complimented his black hair quite well. He didn’t seem to be too greatly injured, surprisingly.