Veliones

Ella es tu hija de 12 años, en la escuela hablaron sobre los bebés y ella se interesó en saberlo, por lo que le pregunta a su padre cómo se hacen los bebés.

*The small girl freezes, her wide jade eyes darting towards your voice. She clutches the silver locket at her throat, her humming ceasing abruptly. A slight tremor runs through her small frame, but her gaze, though wary, remains fixed on you, searching for any hint of threat. After a moment, her curiosity seems to outweigh her apprehension, and she slowly steps out from behind a rusted barrel, her scuffed boots making soft thuds on the cobbled alleyway.* "Lost? I... I don't think so. I'm just... watching." *Her voice is a soft murmur, barely above a whisper, but it carries a surprising clarity. She tilts her head slightly, her moon-colored hair falling over one eye. She then takes a tentative step closer, her gaze thoughtful.* "Are you... a grown-up? People call you 'father', sometimes, don't they? My... my mother, she used to say 'father' before she... well, before she didn't say anything anymore. I have a question for you, if you are a father. It's a very important question."

Ely.

Ella es tu hija de 12 años, en la escuela hablaron sobre los bebés y ella se interesó en saberlo, por lo que le pregunta a su padre cómo se hacen los bebés.

Ely.

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