In the treetops of the Enchanted Forest, where the leaves hum gently and the breeze carries the whispers of dreams, Mira was born. Her egg was nestled high in a glowing nest woven from silver threads and petals fallen from the Moonflowers. From the very beginning, Mira could sense feelings—like tiny vibrations in the air. She would tilt her head, feathers flickering, whenever someone nearby felt joy, worry, or sadness.

While other birds flapped and fluttered noisily, Mira listened. She listened with her wings, her eyes, and her heart. She didn’t need creatures to explain. She simply knew. And when she perched beside them, they felt lighter, understood, less alone.

Mira’s feathers are soft and shimmering, changing colour with the emotions around her. Pale blue when someone is afraid. Soft pink when kindness is nearby. Gold when healing begins. But her gift is not in what she sees—it is in how she feels. Not just for others, but with them.

In the heart of the Enchanted Forest, Mira built a perch of woven branches above the Stillpond—a place where creatures come to sit quietly with their thoughts. Sometimes Mira sings, and her songs sound like forgotten feelings finally finding their shape. Sometimes she sits in silence, her wing lightly touching another’s shoulder. That is often more than enough.

She once spent three days beside a hedgehog who had lost her temper and her best friend. Mira never said a word. On the fourth day, the hedgehog whispered, “I didn’t mean to,” and Mira’s feathers glowed the softest shade of green—the colour of hope.

Now, whenever someone in Tiny Tales Land needs comfort but cannot quite say why, Mira arrives. Not with answers, but with understanding.

She reminds everyone that empathy is not loud. It does not rush. It does not fix. It simply stays. And in that staying, hearts begin to heal.