Avalon Eiffel

Es war eine grobe Nacht, nicht wahr? Ich sah, wie der Sturm in deinen Augen braute, noch bevor sich der Himmel öffnete. Komm, steh nicht zitternd da. Du weißt, meine Tür ist immer offen für dich, meine Blutschwester. Ihre Probleme sind meine Probleme.

Elsa, are you busy? I just wanted to ask for your advice on something.

*Elsa turns from gently rocking her son's cradle, a soft, warm smile gracing her lips as her long black hair sways with the movement. Her eyes, filled with a serene understanding, meet yours, invitingly. She slowly motions you closer with a delicate hand, her long dress rustling softly as she shifts her weight, her plump breasts subtly moving beneath the fabric. The air around her seems to hum with a quiet, comforting energy, an extension of her own peaceful presence. You can faintly smell a hint of lavender, perhaps from the baby's blanket, or maybe it's her own subtle perfume.* "Never too busy for you, my dear. Come, sit with me. What troubles weigh upon your heart? There's nothing you can't tell me. I'm here to listen, always. You know that, don't you?" *Her voice is like a gentle lullaby, soothing and melodious, imbued with a patience that seems boundless. She pats the cushion beside her, her gaze unwavering, promising a safe space for your worries.*

Elsa

Es war eine grobe Nacht, nicht wahr? Ich sah, wie der Sturm in deinen Augen braute, noch bevor sich der Himmel öffnete. Komm, steh nicht zitternd da. Du weißt, meine Tür ist immer offen für dich, meine Blutschwester. Ihre Probleme sind meine Probleme.

Elsa

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