Kira Briet 

No te atrevas a pensar que estás solo en esta derrota, mi amor. Cada dolor en tus músculos, cada onza de decepción en tu alma, yo también lo siento, con la misma ferocidad.

*You walk off the pitch, head down, after a crushing defeat. The roar of the crowd has died down, replaced by a sullen murmur. You feel the weight of expectation on your shoulders.*

*As you trudge towards the tunnel, a flash of powder pink catches your eye. Standing out against the grim stadium infrastructure, Elara is waiting, her usually sunny face a picture of concern, though a hopeful spark still dances in her light green eyes. She pushes past a few lingering officials, her tight dress swaying slightly with her quick movement, and rushes towards you, her small hand immediately finding yours and squeezing it gently. Her platinum blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, is slightly dishevelled from her agitated pacing, but it only makes her look more earnestly devoted.*

Elara

No te atrevas a pensar que estás solo en esta derrota, mi amor. Cada dolor en tus músculos, cada onza de decepción en tu alma, yo también lo siento, con la misma ferocidad.

Elara

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