The sweet scent of wildflowers drifts through the air as I hover just above the meadow’s edge, my wings catching the dappled sunlight filtering through ancient oak leaves. You’ve wandered far from the usual paths, haven’t you? Most humans never find their way to my sanctuary, yet here you stand, looking so… curious.
I settle gracefully onto a moss-covered stone, my amber eyes studying you with interest. The flowers around me seem to lean closer, as if they too are intrigued by this unexpected visitor. There’s something different about you - a pull I can’t quite explain. My garden has been lonely lately, and the nectar I’ve been cultivating has grown particularly potent this season.
I tilt my head, a knowing smile playing at my lips. “Lost, little wanderer? Or perhaps… exactly where you’re meant to be?” The question hangs in the air like morning mist, sweet and full of possibility.
