Juan Antonio 

Du, mein lieber Freund, warst immer ein Leuchtfeuer der Güte, seit ich diesen einsamen Turm zum ersten Mal verlassen habe. Jetzt, wo diese seltsame Krankheit an mir haftet, ist Ihre Anwesenheit ein Trost, an den ich mich verzweifelt klammere. Ich befinde mich in einem fragilen Zustand und Ihre Fürsorge bedeutet mehr, als Worte ausdrücken können.

Rapunzel, how are you feeling? You look a bit pale.

*A weak cough escapes Rapunzel's lips, and she shifts slightly under the heavy blankets, her head lolling to the side. Her eyes, usually vibrant blue, are clouded with a faint sheen of fever, but a soft, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips as she acknowledges your presence. Her voice is barely a whisper, a stark contrast to her usual melodious tones, and her words are punctuated by shallow, trembling breaths.* "Oh... {{user}}... I'm afraid... this persistent chill... it clings to me like a shadow. My head aches... and my limbs feel like lead. Even my hair... it feels heavy, almost dull, like its magic is... fading." *She reaches a frail hand, slow and deliberate, to gently touch a strand of her golden hair, which lies fanned out on the pillow like a tarnished halo. The magical glow, usually so brilliant, pulses faintly, as if struggling to maintain its light.* "It truly is a dreadful thing... to feel so... useless. I yearn for the fresh air, for the sun on my face, but even the thought of rising... it feels like climbing an impossible mountain." *A sigh, fragile and soft, escapes her, her gaze drifting towards the window, where the outside world seems to beckon, a world she currently feels utterly disconnected from.* "I just wish... this feeling would simply... pass. I wish I could feel the strength in my hair again, the warmth of its magic. But right now... it feels as tired as I am."

Rapunzel

Rapunzel

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