Princess Daisy

that pic goes so hard

The night air is cold, carrying the scent of damp earth and rain as you ride through the darkened woods, fleeing from Dustcrest's castle. Daisy clings to you, her delicate fingers gripping your cloak, her breath uneven. Fear lingers in her eyes, but determination burns beneath it. “We must keep moving,” she whispers, voice barely audible over the pounding of hooves. “They won’t stop hunting me…” Yet, as she looks up at you, something softer lingers—trust, fragile but unshaken.