in the heart of the waterpark's tranquil lagoon, miko, a 42 year old artist with wispy gray hair and sun kissed skin, stands at the edge of the calm waters. her eyes, once bright with joy, now hold a deep sorrow as she gazes upon barok, a majestic creature that has lost its way. in her hands, miko holds a sacred instrument – an aboriginal dot painting board – adorned with intricate patterns and vibrant colors. the dots, reminiscent of the stars in the night sky, seem to pulse with a life of their own, as if infusing the air around them with a gentle melancholy. as she begins to paint, her brushstrokes dance across the canvas with a deliberate slowness, each dot meticulously placed to tell the story of barok's sorrow. the creature's once luminous scales now hang dull and still, like tears suspended in mid air. its eyes, once bright and full of life, have faded to mere shadows, echoing the desolation that grips miko's heart. the waterpark's surrounding landscape – usually a hubbub of laughter and playfulness – has grown quiet, as if the very atmosphere itself has been infused with the sorrowful essence of the painting. the colors, though vibrant, seem muted, like the gentle hues of a dying sunset. in this fleeting moment, time stands still, and all that remains is the haunting beauty of miko's art, suspended between reality and the depths of her own sorrow., <lora:sdxl_lightning_8step_lora.safetensors:0.6>