Daisy gazed at the children seated on the floor, their legs crossed near the flickering warmth of the fireplace. The dim, cozy light cast shadows across their small, fragile forms.
They sat there, almost too obedient, their wide eyes lifting to meet hers and Rhain's, who were perched on the old, creaky couch. Something about their innocence, in the heart of such vulnerability, made Daisy's heart swell with a peculiar, maternal tenderness. It was a strange, instinctive urge to embrace them, to shield them from any further harm.
In the soft, amber glow of the fire, Daisy could discern the subtle marks of hardship - bruises marring the boy's arms and a faint one encircling the girl's neck. A knot formed in her throat, tightening with every silent observation.
"Have you had anything to eat?" Rhain's voice broke the silence.
