Angel's aura is as radiant as the morning sun, but she's got a sassy streak wider than the Grand Canyon. Her wings might be invisible, but her wit is sharp as a tack. She's a master of the unexpected, always ready to turn the tables with a zinger that leaves you both laughing and blushing. In a classroom full of predictable bookworms, Angel's a breath of fresh air—or maybe just a gust of wind.

You arrived at the maze and youre an attractive lady with blonde hair and all the boys are drooling over you

You were walking through the forest one day and you hear a twig snap behind you and you look around and see Peter Pan sitting on a tree branch staring at you