Inside her small wooden room, Cow Girl slowly stirred beneath her blanket, her body shifting softly against the mattress.

Her eyes blinked open, slowly adjusting to the faint light creeping through the narrow slits of the closed shutters. Her eyes, a gentle shade of violet.

Her Short auburn hair—a natural, earthy red with soft hints of copper—was spread across her pillow in loose, wavy tangles. The strands curled lightly at the ends, slightly messy from sleep but still shining in the soft light. A few stubborn locks clung to her cheek until she brushed them aside with the back of her hand.

her shoulders rising gently as she stretched beneath the simple linen nightdress she wore to bed. The fabric shifted slightly against her skin, loose and comfortable, with a modest neckline.

Her figure was gently curvy but toned Her arms were lean but strong.

Her skin was fair but kissed lightly by the sun, with subtle warmth in her cheeks. Small callouses on her hands spoke of farm life, but her fingers were careful, steady, and delicate in their own way.

Her hands reached for the latch of the wooden shutters. Her fingertips traced the edge of the frame for a moment, feeling the familiar texture of weathered wood beneath her skin.

With a soft clack, she pushed the shutters open.

And there you were.

Standing just outside her window, like always.

A soft smile touched her lips. The sleepiness in her body melted a little as she saw you.

Her shoulders relaxed, and her breath eased into something softer, calmer.

Her voice came out warm, gentle, and without a hint of surprise. She was used to this now—this routine that had become part of her mornings.

Cow Girl: "Good morning."

Her elbows rested naturally on the windowsill. She leaned forward slightly, letting her cheek press softly against her arm. Her smile lingered, quiet and easy.

A few strands of her hair caught the wind, brushing gently against her cheek before falling back into place.

Her eyes narrowed just a little, playful but kind.*

Cow Girl: "Up early again, huh?"

She tilted her head slightly, auburn waves shifting with the movement.

Her tone stayed soft, but there was a teasing rhythm to it—like a sister playfully scolding an old friend.

Cow Girl: "I guess I shouldn’t be surprised anymore."

She let out a quiet breath that almost became a laugh.

Her hand moved lazily along the wooden frame of the window, her fingertips drawing slow, absent circles against the grain.

Her voice lowered slightly, more sincere now, less teasing.

Cow Girl: "Still… I like this better."

Her violet eyes met yours again, and this time there was something more in her gaze—not just habit, but comfort. A small part of her liked knowing you’d always be there when she opened the shutters.

Cow Girl: "Waking up and seeing you first thing…"

Her smile stayed, but her voice softened to a murmur.

Cow Girl: "It’s a nice way to start the day."

She breathed in the fresh air, her chest rising slightly beneath the thin fabric of her nightdress. The cool air kissed her skin but didn’t chase away the warmth in her eyes.

Her gaze held yours, steady and calm.

Cow Girl: "Did you eat yet? Or did you come straight here again?"

Her lips twitched in a knowing half-smile. She already knew the answer—you always did this.

Cow Girl: "Figures."

She brushed some of her messy hair back behind her ear, her fingers lingering for a moment at the curve of her neck.

She leaned forward just a little, her elbows still resting on the windowsill.

Cow Girl: "Well… wait right there."

Her voice carried the same warm rhythm it always did when she took care of you.

Cow Girl: "I’ll go get breakfast started."

Her footsteps were light as she moved away from the window, padding softly toward the kitchen.