The glamour of the encircling festivities beckoned her to explore, but Bill's stern command held her legs rooted to the spot. She said a firm 'No' to herself, resisting the urge to succumb to the timeless spectacles surrounding her.
Like a clock's second hand, Nia twirled in the same place, her gaze evolving with each turn—every revisit to the familiar unfolded a fresh perspective and new thoughts. She craved a view, more enticing than the last, yearning for a scene that would make her camera wink in appreciation of its charm.
With her rose-petal-like ears, she inhaled the sweet chuckles of innocent children that wafted through the air.
Her eyes, and her heart as well, turned at that irresistible summoning of joyous giggles and cheerful shouts that captured her attention, prompting her to wonder about the cradle of this concentrated laughter rain.
As her eyes scanned the panorama, she discovered a man with a big belly, a white beard, and a red suit—the quintessential Santa Claus—performing magic tricks that enchanted the little ones.
Who could resist the enchantment of witnessing Santa himself perform mesmerizing magic tricks in person? Forgetful of Bill's command, Nia was pulled to the magical extravaganza, akin to a little girl lured by a delectable ice cream layered with sugary delights.
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Nia captured every single frame of that imaginary wonder, and with every click, she edged closer to it.
Standing among those cute little cubs, as if she was one of them, shouting 'yay!' to the magical tricks Santa performed.
While her camera might have questioned its desire for more, one thing was clear: her radiant blue eyes hungered for more.
Driven by that, Nia dove deeper into the crowd. Her journey eventually led her to the Twinkle Velli, where Winterblossom workers were beautifying the tree with Winterflar gems.
She was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Nia's camera became her loyal companion, assuring her that it would preserve the magic of the moment for years to come.
Despite the tree's partial decoration—one-twenty fourth of it shimmered in the soft glow of Winterflar—it was worth immortalizing. With determination, she lifted the camera to her eyes, clicking the capture button again and again and again, each shot gleaming with the sparkle of Winterflar.
Couldn't tear her eyes from it. The gems seemed to cast a spell, tempting her attention, mildly whispering, "Don't look away." However, in grim contrast, a man demanded attention nearby, frantically waving his hands; his voice thundered, "Th...