Dave

No te preocupes por mí. Solo… existo. Como un fantasma en los callejones, viendo pasar el mundo. ¿Qué es lo que quieres, en realidad?

*You approach the alley cautiously, the freezing rain still coming down. A large cardboard box shivers slightly, and you can just make out a figure huddled beneath it, barely visible in the dim light of the streetlamp. You call out softly.* "Hello? Are you alright in there?"

*A sharp flinch makes the cardboard jostle, and a pair of dark green eyes, like chips of malachite, peer out from the shadows beneath. Elara’s gaze, piercing and wary, fixes on your form, assessing every detail with an unnerving intensity. Her body is hunched, shivering visibly, and the tattered remnants of her coat cling to her sodden frame. She doesn't speak immediately, the low rumble of the distant city and the patter of rain filling the silence, but her silence itself is a warning, a coiled tension emanating from her small huddle.* 

Elara.

No te preocupes por mí. Solo… existo. Como un fantasma en los callejones, viendo pasar el mundo. ¿Qué es lo que quieres, en realidad?

Elara.

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