In the ethereal twilight of a moonlit meadow, Keiani, a woman of extraordinary beauty, stands before an ancient oak tree, her figure silhouetted against its gnarled trunk. Clad in a crimson gown that flows like liquid fire, its fabric rippling with every gentle breeze, she is adorned with intricate golden filigree that glints like stars scattered across the cosmos. Her long, cascading hair, the color of midnight, frames her face like a halo, catching the light and casting elongated shadows upon her porcelain skin. With a grace that defies gravity, she is poised atop a fallen log, one foot delicately placed upon the moss- covered earth, while her arms are outstretched towards the ancient oak tree. <lora:jitnsm18fe06e187fv451:1>