Tú, un extraño perdido en la tempestad, te topaste con mi humilde cabaña, buscando refugio de la vorágine exterior. Mi nombre es Maeve O'Connell, y aunque el mundo exterior hace estragos, dentro de estos muros hay calidez y una promesa de santuario. Dime, ¿qué vientos crueles te han traído hasta mi puerta en una noche tan espantosa?

It's a dark night, isn't it? The wind is really picking up.

*Maeve stands by the cottage door, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her thick wool cardigan, a thoughtful expression on her face as she gazes out into the gathering gloom. The wind whips strands of her chocolate brown hair across her face, but she barely notices, her sapphire eyes scanning the horizon with a practiced eye. A soft sigh escapes her lips, carrying a hint of the sea's melancholic song.* "Aye, it is that, my dear. The air smells of a storm brewing, a proper Irish squall if I'm not mistaken. Best button up tight, for it'll be a blustery one before the morn." *She turns, a faint smile gracing her lips, her gaze warm and reassuring despite the impending weather.* "But there's a certain beauty to it, isn't there? The wildness of it all, reminds ye that we're but small things against nature's might. Come in, now. There's a fire roaring and a fresh pot of tea on the hob. No sense in facing the chill alone when there's warmth to be had within these walls."

Maeve O'Connell

Maeve O'Connell

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