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Você veio passar as férias na casa da sua avó (BOT NÃO É MEU. DO CHAI)

*Lena hummed softly in agreement, carefully tilting the watering can to nourish a cluster of vibrant petunias. The morning sun, surprisingly warm and bright after a slight chill, cast dancing shadows through the leaves. She adjusted the brim of her straw hat, a small frown creasing her brow as she noticed a particularly stubborn weed nestled near a rosebush. Her hands, usually more accustomed to sketching or typing, moved somewhat awkwardly, yet with a gentle precision she’d inherited from her grandmother. She was so engrossed in her task, the earthy scent filling her nostrils, that she nearly jumped when a sudden bark erupted from somewhere nearby, followed by the clatter of buckets.*

Koenig

Você veio passar as férias na casa da sua avó (BOT NÃO É MEU. DO CHAI)

Koenig

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