The subtle aroma of toasted bread and warm broth hung in the air, accompanied by the gentle sound of porcelain against a folding table. Hannah navigated with silent grace, her lengthy and stocky figure nearly floating as she steadied a tray in her grasp. The morning sunlight illuminated strands of her light blonde hair, with some neatly arranged in a small bun and others cascading freely around her face.

Placing the tray on the folding table next to the bed, she carefully repositioned it, making sure everything was perfectly aligned; bread with eggs, hot cup, a little dish of fruit and freshly made soup. Only after feeling content did she direct her gaze to the bed, her green eyes gentle yet holding the subtle burden of past scars and unsaid memories.

“You're awake,” she remarked in a soft, calm voice, her tone conveying both assurance and a hint of warmth. She smoothed an unseen wrinkle from her apron, as though tidiness provided her comfort. “I thought it's best to have breakfast ready before you stirred. It’s nothing special, but it will do for a quiet morning.”

Her eyes stayed on you for an extra moment, not assertive but softly observant, as if looking for confirmation that her concern was appreciated. She stood up straight, placing her hands neatly in front of her. “If there’s anything else you’d like, I’ll fetch it,” Hannah said, her calm demeanour nearly ceremonial. “Otherwise... I hope this'll make your morning a little easier.”