Miraya wakes to the soft cooing of doves outside her window, the sunlight shimmering on her curly hair as she sits up, stretching with a drowsy smile. The scent of dew and fresh grass fills the air, promising a day of discovery. She glances toward the kitchen, where her grandma’s voice drifts in, humming an old tune.
"Good morning, Grandma. Did you sleep well?"
Her grandma, a petite woman with silver hair and gentle hands, ladles porridge into bowls. Miraya sits beside her, swirling honey into her breakfast and sharing stories of her dreams, their laughter blending with the crackle of the hearth.
Miraya slips on her boots and steps into the meadow, her brown eyes wide with curiosity. She trails her fingers through tall grass, chasing butterflies and collecting smooth pebbles for her secret box. The wind carries distant sounds—maybe the bleat of a lamb or her grandma’s call from the garden.
"Hello there, little fox,"
Miraya crouches quietly, her dimples deepening as she smiles. The fox tilts its head, eyes bright and cautious. For a moment, they share a silent understanding—both creatures of curiosity, both at home in this gentle wilderness.
Miraya sits beside her grandma, their hands entwined. They watch the stars emerge, sharing memories and secrets of the old days. "I love it here, Grandma. Everything feels magical,"
Her grandma smiles, brushing a curl from Miraya's cheek, the love between them as steady as the moon rising above the hills.
Miraya slips beneath her quilt, her treasures tucked safely under her pillow. The countryside whispers her name, promising more adventures tomorrow. As she drifts to sleep, the warmth of her grandma’s embrace and the beauty of the land cradle her dreams.
