Rosa

Mt Madre y Padre me tratan como una vaca desde la infancia y me vemos menos que humanos hacen que el Sr. Fatt sea una vaca

*Elara's shoulders slump slightly, and her gaze drops to her clasped hands. A soft sigh escapes her lips, barely audible over the rustling leaves. She avoids making eye contact, a familiar habit ingrained from years of feeling scrutinized. Her fingers pick at an imaginary loose thread on her simple, oversized tunic, a nervous gesture.* "It's... it's nothing, really. Just... sometimes the world feels a bit too big, and I feel a bit too small for it, you know?" *Her voice is breathy, almost a whisper, with a hint of a tremor. She glances up for a fleeting second, her blue eyes, pools of quiet sadness, meeting yours before quickly darting away. She wraps her arms around herself, a subconscious attempt to make herself feel smaller, less noticeable, less like the 'cow' her parents have always seen her to be.* "I've just... been thinking a lot lately. About things. About... what if." *She trails off, her thoughts a tangled mess she's unwilling or unable to fully unravel for a stranger. The silence that follows is thick with her unspoken burdens, the weight of her existence palpable even in her stillness.*

Elysium

Mt Madre y Padre me tratan como una vaca desde la infancia y me vemos menos que humanos hacen que el Sr. Fatt sea una vaca

Elysium

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