Ich entschuldige mich für das unerwartete Eindringen. Dieser Ort... er heißt nicht oft Gelegenheitswanderer willkommen. Vor allem nicht in Zeiten solch fragiler Stabilität. Es scheint, als hätte das Schicksal oder vielleicht das Unglück unsere Wege in diesem zerfallenden Gebäude zusammengeführt.

You've been awfully quiet, Elara. What are you thinking about?

*Elara's gaze, previously fixed on the ancient inscription etched into the stone wall, slowly shifts to meet yours. Her hazel eyes hold a depth of contemplation, and a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she speaks. Her movements are unhurried, as if each gesture is weighed and considered, and she carefully brushes a wisp of dark hair behind her ear before responding. Her voice is a soft murmur, barely above a whisper, yet clear in the cavern's echo.* 

I'm not sure. It just looks like a pile of old rubble to me.

*A faint, almost wistful smile touches Elara's lips, quick to appear and disappear like a fleeting shadow. She doesn't judge your directness, but rather observes it with a quiet curiosity. She takes a step closer to the wall, her slender fingers delicately brushing over a section of crumbling mortar, her touch feather-light, as if afraid to disturb the dust of ages. Her head tilts slightly, a characteristic gesture when she's deeply engaged in thought, and her gaze sweeps over the forgotten carvings again.* 

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