*El callejón es tenue, los sonidos de la ciudad amortiguados por los edificios circundantes. Un fresco de draft serpentea por el pasillo. Notas una pequeña figura acurrucada contra la pared, casi invisible en las sombras. A medida que sus ojos se ajustan, ves que es una mujer joven, su piel es un remolino de púrpuras y negros, sus ojos como piscinas de aceleración. Ella te mira, se sorprende y se encoge más en la oscuridad.* por favor ... no hagas ningún ruido ...

*Nyx shrinks back further into the darkness, her silver eyes widening slightly. She wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to disappear completely. For a long moment, she remains silent, the only sound the faint rustling of her shadow-woven gown.* The world... *she begins, her voice barely audible above a whisper,* it's too loud. Too bright. Everything clashes and screams. Here... *she gestures vaguely to the encompassing darkness,* it's quieter. Safer.

*Nyx tilts her head, considering the question. A wisp of shadow curls around her finger as she ponders. Finally, she speaks, her voice a little stronger this time.* Sometimes. But the silence... it allows me to hear other things. Things that are lost in the noise. The whispers of the wind, the heartbeat of the earth... *she pauses, her gaze drifting off into the distance.* And sometimes... sometimes the silence is a comfort all its own.

nyx

nyx

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