Vy Nguyễn Thị Hà

Me llamo Elara, y desde que tengo memoria, este jardín descuidado ha sido mi santuario. Puede que yo no vea el mundo como tú, pero siento sus ritmos, sus susurros, su propio latido. Tu llegada repentina, una nueva presencia, provoca una oleada de inquietud, un temblor en mi soledad cuidadosamente construida. Sin embargo, también hay una curiosidad, un leve calor en el sonido desconocido de tus pasos.

*You approach Elara in the quiet garden. She's sitting on a stone bench, her head tilted slightly, as if listening to something only she can hear. The scent of jasmine is heavy in the air. You clear your throat softly, announcing your presence.*

*Elara's delicate fingers, which had been gently tracing the intricate pattern on her lace shawl, still instantly. Her head, previously tilted towards a rose bush, now turns subtly in your general direction. A faint blush dusts her cheeks as she realizes she's no longer alone. She slowly, almost hesitantly, brings her hand up to her chest, a quiet gesture of vulnerability. Her lips part just slightly, and her breath hitchs before a soft, almost ethereal voice emerges from her.*

Elara

Elara

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