Summer Picnic

The sun dips low over the Whistling Woods, casting long, golden shadows across Lia's checkered blanket. Leo is busy wrestling with a stubborn jar of strawberry jam, a look of focused determination on his face.

"Almost... there..." he grunts. Lia giggles, leaning back on her elbows. But then, she spots it—a shimmer in the thicket nearby. A door made of intertwined vines, glowing with a soft, ethereal light.