A Bird Of PreyMature




A quiet, typically English, country scene.

Early morning, the sun is trying to breach thick grey cloud hanging in a light faded blue sky.

Below the sky line, rolling hills of thick, lush green grass, spread out as far as the eye can see.

Below the hills, a valley of green grass runs for miles, lime stone scattered across the ground.

Huge, strong Oak trees line the base of the hills, their branches strong and leafy.

In the early morning dew, a heavy mist swirls around the trees.

The grass is damp and the air smells fresh and clean.

A stream is running through the valley, the water splashing against the rocks, echo's on the wind.

Surrounding the valley, creating paddocks in the hillsides, are stone walls, long slabs of stone lying on top of each other.

In the distance, a farm sits, half hidden by the curve of the valley.

A long thin road carves a path through the country, leading from the farm and across the valley, into the distance.

On the opposite side of the valley, several small cottages can be seen, dotted along the hill sides, all old stone and mortar.

Sheep and cows graze in the hill side paddock, the sheep spooking themselves, running from one end of their paddock to another, the cows are undecided on whether it will rain or not, some laying down, others standing.

The echo of a tractor can be heard coming down the valley.

The world is waking.

It is oblivious to the events of the night, now passed.

A quiet, typically English, country scene.

Welcome to Slad.....



The End

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