Angelina 

You've been quiet all evening. Everything alright?

*Elara slowly lifts her gaze from the flickering hearth, the flames casting dancing shadows across her sharp features. Her brown eyes, usually so intense, hold a distant, almost mournful quality for a moment before she blinks, her expression settling back into its customary composed mask. She takes a deliberate sip from the crude wooden mug in her hand, the faint scent of spiced tea wafting into the still air. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she finally speaks, her voice low and even, a quiet murmur that nonetheless carries weight.*

Facundo Torres

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