The Gifted Luna
she firmly replied, her voice slowly rippling through the air.
"And you, little wolf, you are a fallen light who needs to rise again.”
The woman stepped closer, caressing something in her hands.
An apple.
But unlike any other that Tiara had ever seen, its skin was like that of pure honey, pulsing with a gentle glow, veined with streaks of soft, white light.
"What are you thinking, child?" She asked.
“This is not a fruit of nourishment like you think it is,” the woman said. “It is a fruit of knowing."