On the horizon, a crescent moon is faint, climbing up the cliff slantly and reflecting the tops of the willows.
The pure moonlight is as delicate and soft as silk satin.
A drop of moonlight shines through the lightly closed door and onto the delicate face.
If there is a seemingly invisible movement at the side corner of the mouth, the beautiful feathered eagle trembles slightly, inadvertently peeking at her charming face.
In the dream, the fallen flowers are in full bloom, drifting in the wind.