"Heave, ho. Heave, ho!" The sound of a commanding worker engineered the rest of the employees, keeping them in tempo as they forced themselves to survive the heat of a thousand suns. Heat poured into their veins as if pumped in through a hypodermic needle. It swirled in their brains inducing them into sleepy stupidity and no matter how much came in, none of it seemed to escape. The air was like breathing liquid fire and no-one dared walk barefoot outside for fear of blistering. No matter how much you drank the thirst gnawed at you until sun down, when the welcome scarlets and tangerine lit up the horizon and ushered in the sweet relief of the night. Heat rained down on them like the breath of hell. The scorched sand shimmered in the intense white rays of the sun.Their hats cocooned their heads in warm sweat, the arid heat burnt at their lungs. Nothing and no one moved in this penetrating heat unless they were desperate, and they were. The muggy heat pressed in on them, even sweating was no good. It trickled down their necks and backs like warm soup. Hair clung to their heads like thermal blankets, locking in the heat, frying their brains. The sidewalk was hot enough to fry an English breakfast. It was high noon and the sun beat down with unrestrained brutality, a few withering trees cast patches of pathetic shade onto the baked tarmac. The female, clad in black, stared at the laborers as they continued their jobs with bright smiles that only added to the shimmering blazes. For the most part, her facial features remained the same. However, if one was to stare deep within her eyes, they could spot it; a glint of wonder, amazement, and respect mashed into a little ball known as the iris was buried within. These laborers didn't do what they did for themselves or their families, but for the entire community of Hargeon Town. They enjoyed what they did, knowing full well that their job could change the point of view of future generations. That was what Fleur admired about these men.

The morning sun was bright and let itself into the serenity of Fleur's apartment. This morning wasn’t gray, but by soothing lavender and brilliant amber. The colors merged into neon pink and peach. She wakened early each morning in the stronghold to watch the sunrise. After all, she could only see so many. Spreading sunrise, pinkish glow, clouds tinted, colors spread across the sky announcing the new day, oranges and reds painted across the clouds as if by a celestial hand. Twilight melted away, majestic sunrise, red orange glow seeping over the horizon as if the light itself was being poured from a molten sun. Powerful rays flood over the landscape lighting every blade of grass, shining from each leaf. The air was very clear and the long morning shadows distinct. Under the gentle spring sun its rays warm her skin - like kisses from the divine. The nascent leaves have that soft green and the ground was scattered with vivid blooms whose petals dance in the breeze. Fleur loved autumn. She could drink it up like a tonic. Instead she spreads her fingers wide and fans them though the damp air - like she did when she was a kid trying to fly, only now it's just something that made her smirk. Birds above flit from branch to branch, letting out their sweet melody. If this day was a beautiful restaurant dish it would be a fresh salad with feta cheese and olives. If it was a drink it would be a chilled glass of white wine. But Fleur preferred to think of it as music, and so with each step she heard the Beetles "All you need is love, love, love is all you need..."

Among the crew was one who didn't fit the picture. Anyone could have immediately spotted him. The lord of Hargeon Town, a young blonde, was amongst the men, working just as hard as everyone else. His features were too pretty to be those of a standard worker. The only thing Fleur wondered was how he had time, as a lord of a town, to aid elsewhere. Perhaps the paperwork was only exaggerated in most cases. He caught wind of her staring and approached with a smile, asking if she'd assist them. They were rebuilding the docks, some parts clearly in need of the renovation. Fleur, being the helpful individual she was, agreed without hesitation. Though no words were shared, a nod of her head was all he needed. She headed over to the rest of the heavy-lifters and joined them in their job, prancing about and aiding elsewhere whenever she was done with one activity. Goodness, was it tiring.