Isolde and Lorren's laughter echoed through the cabin, a welcome respite from the tension of the day. As their mirth subsided, Isolde leaned back against the plush headboard, her eyes drifting to the flickering flames in the fireplace. "I suppose you're right," she said softly, "It is an incredible opportunity. I remember of dreaming of this....getting away and exploring something more than my small village...." Her words faded as she remembered her grandmother's tearful goodbye.
Lorren settled beside her on the bed, her hand gently squeezing Isolde's in a comforting gesture. "Sometimes, the dreams we chase don't look the way we imagine them to be," she said softly. "But that doesn't mean they can't be wonderful in their own way." A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Lorren stood, her hand on the doorknob. "Come in," Lorren called out, her voice warm and inviting.
