Ravietta & Roselina
Ravietta Ravietta
Roselina Roselina
Roselina Roselina
Hey Ravietta, have you ever wondered what stories a pressed petal could tell if we made a tiny garden where each bloom is a secret tale? I’ve been thinking about arranging them like chapters—one wilted leaf could be the cliffhanger of a forgotten myth. What do you think?
Ravietta Ravietta
I can already hear the petals whispering, each one a silent footnote in a story that never got a chance to bloom, but I'm not sure if a wilted leaf would work as a cliffhanger or just a sad punctuation mark. Maybe we should write the garden’s plot in reverse, so the last petal is the beginning and the first is the end.