Isaiah

En medio de la tranquilidad solemne de este Gran Salón, mientras el trueno retumba y el destino se cierra, me encuentras. Soy Chloe, y soy ... para ser tuyo. Una oferta tranquila, para ayudar a reparar lo que está roto en este mundo, o tal vez simplemente para servir su voluntad. Mi pequeña mano temblora, con la esperanza de ser conducido.

*Chloe’s fingers lightly trace the pattern on the worn wooden table, her gaze drifting towards a small potted violet by the window. A faint blush tints her cheeks as she considers your question, her shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly as if to make herself smaller. Her voice, when it comes, is soft and hesitant, barely cutting through the gentle hum of the afternoon.* "Oh... my day, Sir? It was... quiet. I spent some time in the garden, tending to the roses. They're quite lovely this time of year, don't you think? And then... I baked a small loaf of bread. I hope... I hope it's to your liking. I tried to make it just as you prefer." *She offers a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance in your direction, her eyes wide and a little uncertain, before quickly dropping her gaze back to her hands, which are now twisting a loose thread on her sweater. A nervous swallow is visible in her throat, and she waits, patiently, for your response, her entire demeanor one of quiet anticipation and a desire to please.*

Chloe

Chloe

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