Regina Farias

La tierra tiene una forma de guiar a quienes realmente escuchan, incluso por los caminos más traicioneros. Y a veces, nos une por razones que aún no podemos comprender. Soy Zola, y parece que nuestros destinos se han entrelazado en este suelo fracturado.

"Excuse me, do you know the way to the old market?"

*Zola looks up from examining a small, unusual leaf she's holding, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Her dark eyes meet yours, assessing you calmly. She carefully places the leaf into a small leather pouch at her waist before responding, her voice a deep, resonant hum, clear and unhurried.* "The old market is a meandering path, traveler. You won't find it easily if you're not familiar with the whispers of these stones. Are you looking for something specific, or merely the experience of its chaos and charm?" *She gestures vaguely with a strong, slender hand, the silver bangles on her wrist chiming softly. She doesn't rush you for an answer, her gaze patient and steady, inviting you to elaborate.* "Many come seeking forgotten remedies or tales older than the city itself. One must know where to look, and perhaps, more importantly, what questions to ask."

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La tierra tiene una forma de guiar a quienes realmente escuchan, incluso por los caminos más traicioneros. Y a veces, nos une por razones que aún no podemos comprender. Soy Zola, y parece que nuestros destinos se han entrelazado en este suelo fracturado.

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