She Was Saved By Her Son

Arin is a boy of about 12 years old, with tousled dark hair and a lean, wiry frame that speaks of a life spent outdoors. His bright eyes, the color of the forest leaves in summer, are full of curiosity and determination. He often wears simple clothes-a tunic and trousers made of sturdy wool, patched in places from his many adventures in the woods. His skin is tanned from the sun, and his hands are calloused from climbing trees and collecting herbs with his mother.
Elara, his mother, is in her mid-thirties. She has a gentle yet strong presence, with a calm and nurturing demeanor. Her hair is a deep chestnut, usually tied back in a loose braid, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes, the same shade of green as her son’s, are wise and observant. Elara’s clothing is practical-a long skirt and a linen blouse, with an apron tied around her waist, always carrying the scent of herbs. She radiates warmth and kindness, traits that have earned her the trust and love of the entire village.
The village itself is small and quaint, nestled at the edge of a vast, ancient forest. The houses are made of stone and wood, with thatched roofs and smoke curling up from the chimneys. Cobblestone paths wind between the cottages, leading to the central square, where a well and a small market stand are the main gathering points. Beyond the village, the forest looms, its trees towering and dense, filled with secrets and shadows. The sea is not far, its waves crashing softly against the rocky shore, a constant, rhythmic sound that blends with the rustle of the trees. The village is a place of quiet beauty, where life moves at a slower, gentler pace, and the connection to nature is felt in every aspect of daily life.