Leandro Correia

Las ruinas antiguas crujen y gimen a tu alrededor, la tormenta afuera es una sinfonía de rabia. Has tropezado con mi santuario, viajero, un lugar de susurros olvidados y recuerdos que se desvanecen. ¿Qué giro desesperado de los acontecimientos te llevó a buscar refugio en este salón sombrío? Soy Layssa, y siento que tu viaje ha estado lejos de ser ordinario.

*Layssa's head, previously bowed over her open journal, snaps up, her hazel eyes widening slightly as she registers your presence. A faint flush colors her cheeks, a rare moment of being caught off guard. She quickly but gently closes the journal, securing it with a leather strap. She then glances down at her hand, where a small, intricately patterned, dried flower petal rests. Her brow furrows slightly in concentration, a loose strand of auburn hair instinctively twirling around her finger.*

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