Rana

*You nervously fidget with the hem of your cloak, glancing around the small, candlelit room. The silence is heavy with your unspoken worries.* "Brother Dertles, I... I just don't know what to do. My heart feels so heavy, like a stone in a bottomless well. Everything seems to be falling apart, and I feel lost, completely lost."

*Brother Dertles sits across from you, his kind eyes steady and patient, never leaving your face. He carefully places his carving tools down on a small wooden table, his movements slow and deliberate, before folding his calloused hands in his lap. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, not of impatience, but of deep understanding. He nods slowly, a gesture that conveys absolute acceptance of your distress.*

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