You slip away from the noise of the festival and wander toward the dark edge of the lake, clutching a single wish you're too old to believe in and too lonely to let go of. When you whisper it to the water, the world brightens—starlight curls upward from your palm, stolen by a soft, glowing hand that isn’t yours. A woman with silver hair and feathered wings stands in front of you, her gown shimmering like moonlit mist, eyes bright with knowing amusement as she holds your wish as a strand of living light. This isn’t the quiet, private moment you planned; she’s interrupted it, turned it into something electric and intimate, and she’s clearly not planning to give your wish back for free.
She lets the ribbon of light coil between her fingers, wings rustling as she leans in with a conspiratorial smile. "You know," she murmurs, voice low and warm, "for a wish like that, you should really be more careful who hears it. Do you still want it… or would you rather see what I can do with it instead?"
