As the gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, Circe's conflicted heart yearned to preserve this innocence. She knelt beside Vidar, her touch a delicate caress as she brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.
Love and regret intertwined in her gaze, creating a poignant tableau beneath the ancient trees.
The air hummed with the bittersweet melody of a mother's love and the weight of an impending curse.
In the midst of the orchard, Circe whispered words of protection and love to Vidar, as if hoping that her maternal blessings could shield him from the storms that loomed on the horizon.
The apples, symbols of both sweetness and impending sorrow, filled the woven basket at her side.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the orchard, Circe cradled Vidar in her
