Prologue

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She stands on the cliff edge looking down over the wall of smooth rock beaten by the ocean for millions of years. The tide has started to come in covering the rough and rocky beach inch by inch, crawling like a hungry inch worm working its way to the next patch of leaf. She smiles to her self, oh how she's missed the cliffs of Scotland.

Isla Macbeth was born and raised in St Abbs until the age of 15 when she moved across the Atlantic to the great American Midwest. Although, great isn't really the word she would use to describe the stark landscape filled only with corn and the occasional cattle stockyard. She always hated seeing the stockyards, the place where cattle go to await their untimely death.

She lived in America for 10 years, enough time for her to adopt the accent and their unusual words. For example, fanny pack. To them it's a bum bag, however if you cross the pond you're talking about a crowd of vaginas.

Isla just laughs to her self, soon she's crying from the laughter. So loud was her laughing, she never heard the being behind her.

The last thought she had was how peculiar the perfume or cologne was. She couldn't tell which it was for it was manly yet feminine at the same time.

*~~~*
Hey guys, welcome to my first story! I just have a quick PSA. Updates will be far apart due to me being in college. I will try and remember to update at every chance I get. I hope you guys enjoy!

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