Under the brilliant blue sky raced a motorbike and its driver, it sped across the valley, leaving behind a thick, cloudy trail of dust. The motorbike itself was old, ancient in fact, presumably of early 20th century design, attached to its rear end were two boxes either side, and a leather strap to securely fasten them, the engine made an odd groaning sound, as if it were a child moaning about a long journey, and every now and then a puff of smoke would escape from the exhaust.

The rider was young; she wore clothes that seemed to fit the era in which the bike was created, an old flight jacket hung over her shoulders, and a padded hat sat atop her head, complete with two ear flaps either side, she wore an intrepid expression on her face, hidden by a pair of goggles, they looked worn and their once silver frame had begun to fade.