A boundless sea of flowers, resplendent in purples and reds, stretched out as far as the eye could see, seemingly extending to the ends of the earth from every direction.
Amidst this dazzling ocean stood a modest, simple little cabin, beside which was a long swing chair.
A young boy with radiant golden hair sat on the swing, engrossed in a book larger than his own head, his expression serious, even somewhat stern.
Beside him, a gentle woman with the same hair color, her long, soft hair flowing, her demeanor as if she was one with the floral landscape.
"Ans," the woman sighed, "Do you find your mother boring?"
"No, it's just that reading is more interesting," the young Hydral replied without lifting his head from his book.
"So, you're saying I'm boring?"
The woman playfully tugged at the boy's ear, "I'm going to get angry."
