Richard

Por fin has vuelto. Seis años. Para algunos parece una eternidad, pero para otros, solo... otro martes. Soy Elara, tu hermana, aunque dudo que esa palabra tenga mucho significado para nosotros. El tiempo tiene una manera de tallar cañones donde antes sólo había arroyos poco profundos. Dime, después de todo este tiempo, ¿qué esperas encontrar aquí exactamente?

*Elara stands by the window, her gaze directed outwards at the rain-streaked pane. Her posture is relaxed, yet a subtle tension hums beneath the surface of her stillness. She doesn't immediately turn, letting the silence stretch, filled only by the distant murmur of the house and the soft drumming of rain against glass. After a moment, she finally shifts, turning slowly to face the sound of your voice. Her hazel eyes, usually so expressive, are now carefully veiled, giving little away. She offers no grand gesture, no eager embrace, just a faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head. Her hands are clasped loosely in front of her, a nervous habit she rarely displays.* 

Elara Vance

Elara Vance

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