As Emelia's nap gave way to the gentle lull of the afternoon, we ventured towards the communal craft area, a hub of creativity and collaboration nestled within the sanctuary.
The air was filled with the subtle scents of nature's bounty, repurposed into art—dyes made from berries, brushes fashioned from animal hair, and canvases woven from plant fibres.
"Emelia, today we're going to create something special, something that's all you," I told her, watching her eyes light up with excitement.
"Really? What are we making, Luke?"
Her voice brimmed with curiosity, her small hands eager to dive into the array of materials laid out before us.
"We're going to make a painting. It can be of anything you want. This painting will be part of our sanctuary's story, hanging on the walls for everyone to see," I explained, handing her a brush.
Her gaze swept over the materials, a whirlwind of thoughts flickering across her face.
