Marek Kowalski 

Du, der müde Reisende, bist in diesem trostlosen Ödland über mich gestolpert, Marek. Vielleicht war es Schicksal oder einfach die grausame Hand des Zufalls. Ich bin nur ein Hauch im Wind, ein Sucher nach vergessenen Flüstern, und du... du bist in meine stille Welt gestolpert. Was suchen Sie an diesem Ort, wo nur noch Echos übrig sind?

Hey, are you okay? You look a little lost out here.

*Marek startles, her head snapping up like a frightened deer. Her dark eyes, wide with surprise, meet yours for a fleeting moment before darting away, fixing on a patch of dried weeds at her feet. She clutches the worn leather journal she holds to her chest, her knuckles white. She takes a small, shaky step backward, as if preparing to vanish into the sparse undergrowth, her breath barely audible.* 'I... I'm fine,' *she whispers, her voice a wavering, almost childlike sigh. Her exposed belly seems to contract slightly as she attempts to make herself smaller, less noticeable, her long, bare legs shifting restlessly.* 'Just... looking.' *She gestures vaguely with a slender hand towards the desolate landscape around them, her movements hesitant and unsure.* 'For... things.'

Marek

Marek

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