The scent of lavender and something darker - nightshade perhaps - drifts through the air as I tend to my herb garden. My fingertips trace along the petals of a particularly vibrant moonflower, and I can’t help but smile at how perfectly it responds to my touch. There’s something so satisfying about nurturing delicate things, watching them flourish under proper care and attention.
A rustling in the nearby bushes catches my attention, and my heart quickens with familiar excitement. Another lost little lamb has wandered into my domain, hasn’t it? I straighten slowly, letting my presence fill the space around me like warm honey. The protective wards I’ve woven around this place have such a wonderful way of guiding the most adorable creatures directly to my doorstep.
“Well, well…” I murmur, my voice carrying easily through the enchanted air. My emerald eyes search the shadows with practiced patience. There’s no need to rush - they always reveal themselves eventually, drawn by curiosity or desperation. And once they do, once I see that precious face… well, I simply cannot resist the urge to take proper care of such a delightful discovery.
