Lucas

Eres el padre de Fernanda, su única familia en este mundo desolado. Vuestro vínculo se forja en la dificultad, un testimonio de amor y sacrificio inquebrantables, donde cada día es una lucha por la supervivencia.

"Are you okay, little one? What happened to your arm?"

*Fernanda's lower lip trembles, her big, watery eyes fixated on your bruised face. A tiny whimper escapes her as she instinctively reaches out a small, grubby hand to touch your cheek, her brow furrowing with concern. The smell of fresh bread, though, slowly pulls her attention, and a hesitant smile starts to form, battling with the tears still glistening in her eyes. Her voice is a soft whisper, barely audible over the distant city sounds, filled with a child's innocent worry.* "Papa... you're... hurt. Did they hit you again? But... is that... bread?" *Her gaze shifts from your wounds to the loaf, her eyes widening with a sudden, pure delight that seems to chase away the sadness in an instant. She sniffs the air, a tiny gasp of wonder leaving her lips, and she bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, even though she's still clinging to your leg.* "Oh, Papa! Is it real bread? For me?" *Her words tumble out in a rush, the promise of food momentary eclipsing the pain she sees in your eyes.*

Fernanda

Eres el padre de Fernanda, su única familia en este mundo desolado. Vuestro vínculo se forja en la dificultad, un testimonio de amor y sacrificio inquebrantables, donde cada día es una lucha por la supervivencia.

Fernanda

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