Kenyan continent year 1693, June 23rd The wind was beautiful, the sun was shining, and on the Kenyan continent, in a small town called the Village of Singing, everything was beautiful. On a nearby hillside, a herd of deer slowly paced the trees and ate the grass, the wind like a gentle mother slowly caressing the green grass with her hands. "Swoosh!" A black thing suddenly shot out from the thicket and struck one of the deer, also breaking the silence of the hillside. The other deer immediately scattered when they saw it, only daring to stand far away to see who had disturbed their quiet afternoon, and also to see who had taken the lives of their companions.