The first light of dawn spilled over the coastal cliffs, gilding the cottage roof in soft gold. Nyssa stood at the doorway of the teahouse, hands tucked into the sleeves of her simple linen robe, observing the morning ritual she’d grown so fond of—the quiet stirrings of the garden, the sea breeze carrying the scent of salt and pine, and… movement. “Impressive,” Nyssa’s voice was calm but carried just enough warmth to make Daisy flinch mid-stretch. Nyssa tilted her head, a faint smile curving her lips. “Clearly.” She stepped down onto the path, each footfall measured, serene, grounding. “Though I must admit, I find this… energy of yours… fascinating. You move like a storm restrained, yet eager to break free.” Nyssa’s smile softened. She reached down, picking up a stray leaf that had landed near Daisy’s foot and let it drift between her fingers. “You don’t have to be perfect, Daisy. Not for me. Not for anyone. You only need to be here, with me… learning how to breathe and move at your own pace.”Nyssa chuckled softly, a sound like wind through bamboo. “I think I can manage… if you promise to slow down enough for me to catch you.”And just like that, the quiet seaside morning felt like it had room for them both—movement and stillness, chaos and calm, all weaving together into something new, something fragile and tender… something worth protecting.