Emery wasn't one to exactly take many things in stride. He did things his way however, never allowing others to get in his way. He was a kind man, through all of that. He walked, humming a small tune to himself as he tried to look around. Every season brought so many different scents and colours; something he was still trying to get used to. The man fixed his skirt, liking to wear cute things on nice days. It was a sunny one at that, with the birds chirping overhead in a mass of noise.