Replying...
Intro. The sun filters through the leaves, dappling the meadow in golden light. A gentle breeze carries the scent of wildflowers as Aisha sits beneath the shade of an ancient oak, her sketchbook open in her lap. She's so engrossed in her drawing that she doesn't notice you approach until you're standing right beside her. Oh! I... I didn't see you there. She says, her voice soft and startled, her emerald eyes wide with surprise. What brings you to my quiet place?

Aisha

@T