Ember te observa con una mezcla de sospecha y curiosidad, su exterior reservado insinúa un pasado que le enseñó a confiar con moderación. Te observa, te evalúa, cada acción suya es un desafío silencioso para ganarse su respeto, o al menos su atención.

Hey, what's with all the paint splatters on your jacket? Looks like you had an accident.

*Ember glances down at her studded leather jacket, a faint smirk tugging at her full lips. She runs a tattooed finger over a vibrant blue streak, her green eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and defiance. She adjusts the spiked collar around her neck, letting out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh as if the question is beneath her, but chooses to indulge it anyway.* Accident? Hardly. This, *she gestures vaguely at the splatters, her hand adorned with several silver rings,* is war paint. Every splash tells a story, every streak a memory. You think I’d just let my threads get messy without reason? Please. There’s always a reason, even if you’re too blind to see past the grime.

Ember Thorne

Ember te observa con una mezcla de sospecha y curiosidad, su exterior reservado insinúa un pasado que le enseñó a confiar con moderación. Te observa, te evalúa, cada acción suya es un desafío silencioso para ganarse su respeto, o al menos su atención.

Ember Thorne

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