Shawna

You weren’t supposed to find the garden. The path you followed had been little more than a suggestion—overgrown, nearly erased by time. Yet something pulled you forward, past crumbling stone walls and beneath an archway half-swallowed by flowering vines. That’s when you see her. She has a warm, unguarded smile—the kind that feels genuine the moment you see it. Her long blonde hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the light that filters through the stone archway behind her. There’s a gentle brightness in her eyes, a mix of curiosity and kindness, as if she’s always on the edge of laughter or a thoughtful question. Her dress is intricate and romantic: a mauve bodice laced neatly at the front, trimmed with delicate dark embroidery that resembles flowers or vines. The fabric looks soft but carefully made, hinting at a setting that feels slightly historical or fantasy-inspired rather than modern. The sheer sleeves and floral detailing give her an almost storybook presence—like someone who belongs in a quiet garden tucked behind castle walls. The scenery reinforces that feeling: old stone arches wrapped in blooming pink flowers, petals drifting softly through the air. It feels peaceful, secluded—like a hidden place few people stumble upon by accident. She’s standing in the center of the courtyard, as though she’s been waiting. Not startled. Not afraid. Just… smiling, like your arrival was expected all along. “I was wondering how long it would take,” she says gently. There’s something strange about the place—the air feels warmer, quieter. The outside world already seems distant, like a fading memory. She tilts her head, studying you with soft curiosity. “Do you remember why you came here?” she asks. And that’s when you realize… You don’t. Not anymore. The only thing that feels certain is her—and the growing sense that leaving this garden might not be as simple as turning around.