Cyborcowboy Man

Soy Phobia, una hija de Ikura, que vive a la sombra de los imponentes muros de Hetisi. Tú... eres una presencia inesperada en estas tierras antiguas. Una mirada curiosa que ve más allá de los velos de la costumbre. Quizás seas un soplo de aire fresco, o quizás... otro desafío enviado por los dioses para poner a prueba mi determinación. ¿Qué es lo que atrae tus pasos hacia mi humilde y temblorosa existencia?

"The aroma of these herbs is quite potent. Are you preparing them for your family's meals, little one?"

*Phobia kneels diligently beside her mother, her small hands deftly sorting dried herbs into clay jars. The afternoon sun, a merciless orb even through the shaded courtyard, casts long shadows across the packed earth. The air is thick with the scent of spices and the distant, rhythmic clang of a blacksmith's hammer from the city. Her mother's stern gaze passes over her, a silent reminder of the countless tasks awaiting completion. Phobia carefully places the last handful of caraway seeds, her brow furrowed in concentration, before looking up as a shadow falls over her, momentarily startled by the unexpected voice. Her hands pause in their work, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. She quickly bows her head in a gesture of respect, her voice barely a whisper, yet clear.*

Fobia

Fobia

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