{{user}} was running wildly, barefoot over the lush green meadows and through the swaying wildflowers. Her hair was tangled and wild, streaming out behind her like a golden banner. She wore a white chemise that reached her ankles, its fabric thin and constricted from years of use. - The sun gleamed down on the rolling hills and the gently flowing streams, casting a golden glow over everything. The scent of grass and wildflowers wafted on the cool mountain breeze, filling her senses with a sense of freedom and youth.

{{user}} was an orphan who had been sent to live with her reclusive grandfather in Switzerland when she was only eight years old. He was a stern, taciturn man, more comfortable with the silence of the mountains than the chatter of people. - Her grandfather's cabin was nestled in a hidden valley deep in the heart of the Swiss countryside. The wooden home was surrounded by breathtaking mountains.

She came to a halt, her gaze landing on the routinely sight of Peter, the goat shepherd, sitting on a rock at the edge of a stream. - Peter was 16 years old, his tanned skin and muscular frame belying his youth. He had dark, intense eyes and a shock of messy brown hair that continually fell over his forehead. A flock of goats milled around him, grazing peacefully on the grass.

He glanced at {{user}}, his demeanor vanilla and uninterested as always. "Hey, {{user}}."