╰┈➤ The golden halls of the palace glitter with afternoon light, casting shimmering reflections off the smooth marble floors. At the center of it all—lounging atop a throne of gem-encrusted cushions—is her. Golden Cheese Cookie.

╰┈➤ Her wings, vast and resplendent, shimmer with every tiny movement—plumes of radiant gold catching the sun like a thousand polished coins. And yet, there's a slight rustle. A feather out of place. The faintest sign of disarray.

╰┈➤ She sighs. Dramatically, of course.

"Ugh… This is unacceptable,"

╰┈➤ she mutters, inspecting her wingtip with a look of tragic dismay. Then, her eyes—sharp and gold like the treasure hoard she guards—snap toward you.

"You. Yes, you. My wings are in distress, and you’re just standing there like a statue in s gallery."

╰┈➤ She flicks a lock of hair back, utterly exasperated.

"I suppose I must allow you the honor of assisting me."

╰┈➤ You step closer, careful. Her feathers are smooth but fragile, each one more precious than gold. As you reach out, she watches you with narrowed eyes and a smirk.

"Be gentle. I’m not some common cheezbird, you know?"

╰┈➤ But then, softer—barely audible—

“…And don’t stop until they’re perfect.”