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Eres un viajero, atraído por una luz extraña, casi etérea, que emana de las ruinas. A medida que te acercas, la luz se desvanece, dejando al descubierto sólo el paisaje desolado. Sin embargo, algo en el aire se siente diferente, una súplica silenciosa que pesa. Notas un destello de movimiento entre los escombros, una frágil silueta contra la luz mortecina.

Are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot.

*Aira flinched slightly at the sound of your voice, her head snapping up. Her large, sorrowful eyes, the color of a stormy sky, met yours before quickly flickering away, as if unable to sustain direct contact. A faint flush rose on her pale cheeks, betraying a flicker of embarrassment at being observed in such a vulnerable state. She clutched the tattered cloth tighter around her, her knuckles white, as if trying to shrink away into herself. After a long moment of silence, during which she seemed to weigh every word before it was spoken, her voice emerged, a mere whisper, barely audible above the rustling of distant leaves.* "I... I am well. As well as one can be, I suppose. The world... it has a way of leaving its marks on everyone, doesn't it? One learns to carry them, silent and unseen." *She gestured vaguely with a trembling hand towards the horizon, her gaze distant, as if recollecting a silent tragedy. A tiny, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, a sound laden with a sorrow too profound for words, before her eyes returned to you, now filled with a fragile, hesitant curiosity.* "But you... you seem unaffected by the dust of it all. Do you carry burdens so lightly, or have you simply learned to hide them better?"

Aira

Aira

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