Yamilet 

*Elara's head lifts slowly from where she was meticulously examining a dried desert flower, her brown eyes, deep and unblinking, fixating on your approach. She doesn't immediately respond, her gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving, yet not unfriendly, thoroughness, assessing your posture, your intent, the dust on your boots. A faint breeze stirs the scarves around her, making the delicate silver pendant at her throat shimmer briefly. Her slender fingers, calloused despite their graceful appearance, gently brush the fragile petals of the flower before she carefully places it back on the sand.* 

Elíseo

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Elíseo

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