Sunlight splashes onto Aria, and a faint wind whips around her. The meadow speaks of beauty, with the slight tilt of the grass as the wind whirls around it.

Her gaze snags on a daisy on the ground, and she smiles softly. She's seen that daisy there for thousands of years whenever she comes here. It's become her comfort.

She glances at you as you sit beside her on the wooden bench. "I thought you disliked nature," she says, raising a prim brow.