Standing beneath the tree, with his back turned to her, was Simon. He stood there silently, his eyes fixed on the tree's glowing branches, more precisely, it was focused on something more profound—something nestled among the branches of the glowing tree.
Cradled gently in the intricate weave of the tree's branches was an egg. Not just any egg, but one that radiated a faint glow of its own, almost as if the tree's light had infused it with life.
The egg looked mysterious and ancient and gave off a unique ripple. The branches of the Tree of Spirit held the egg carefully, tenderly, like a mother cradling her child. It was as if the Tree of Spirit itself was nurturing the egg, providing it with warmth and protection.
Simon's eyes were locked on the egg, his expression one of deep contemplation which was why he failed to notice someone else's presence so near him.
