Digital painting of a red-haired woman leaping and another woman walking in an autumn forest beside a stream.

Samira, who is always stuck by Layla, balanced her completely. While Layla stayed soft spoken and thoughtful, Samira burned bright, wild, restless, full of spark. Fearless yet quick to act, never tied down, she’d fidget nonstop, craving action, danger, a thrill. She’d pull Layla toward steep edges, twisting rivers hiding strong flows, clumps of woods, others avoided. Her laugh bounced between rocks, her words flew over meadows yet her smile didn’t fade, not even when she pushed Layla to run faster or better her she wouldn’t leap the glittering streams, winding through the valley. Samira moved nonstop, wild and free still, Layla saw what slipped past most people. Like how sunlight hits a leaf’s rim, turning it bright as a broken mirror. The wind played with the green carpet, shaping it like tiny flames dancing on the ground. Even how the space around crumbling stones fences felt thick, soft sound hidden through every split and gap. They were total opposites, yet it worked.Samira pushed forward, always leading the way. Meanwhile, Layla watched closely, making sure nothing went wrong. As they traveled, weird things happened around them. The trails lit up under their steps. From deep in the trees, faint melodies floated out now and then. Every so often, strange shapes flickered at the edge of sight, things nobody else could spot. See more