As the moon took its place in the sky, Harriet Slater stood atop a moss- covered stone altar, her regal pose exuding an air of mystery and power. Clad in an ethereal gown crafted from the petals of rare orchids, delicate tendrils of ivy intertwined within the fabric, she held a bouquet of luminous white roses as if beseeching the stars themselves for guidance, her eyes glistening with an inner fire that illuminated the shadows cast by the ancient trees. The soft golden light filtering through the leaves created a dreamlike atmosphere, while the wind whispered secrets in the distance, the sound echoing ominously yet soothingly through the forest as Harriet, framed between the gnarled roots of the ancient trees, became a testament to the untamed power of nature and the strength of femininity in its purest form. <lora:hkvgjv18fe81252abn97f:1>