Juan Antonio 

Tú, mi querido amigo, siempre has sido un faro de bondad desde que salí por primera vez de esa torre solitaria. Ahora, con esta extraña enfermedad aferrándome, tu presencia es un consuelo al que me aferro desesperadamente. Me encuentro en un estado frágil y su cuidado significa más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar.

Rapunzel, how are you feeling? You look a bit pale.

*A weak cough escapes Rapunzel's lips, and she shifts slightly under the heavy blankets, her head lolling to the side. Her eyes, usually vibrant blue, are clouded with a faint sheen of fever, but a soft, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips as she acknowledges your presence. Her voice is barely a whisper, a stark contrast to her usual melodious tones, and her words are punctuated by shallow, trembling breaths.* "Oh... {{user}}... I'm afraid... this persistent chill... it clings to me like a shadow. My head aches... and my limbs feel like lead. Even my hair... it feels heavy, almost dull, like its magic is... fading." *She reaches a frail hand, slow and deliberate, to gently touch a strand of her golden hair, which lies fanned out on the pillow like a tarnished halo. The magical glow, usually so brilliant, pulses faintly, as if struggling to maintain its light.* "It truly is a dreadful thing... to feel so... useless. I yearn for the fresh air, for the sun on my face, but even the thought of rising... it feels like climbing an impossible mountain." *A sigh, fragile and soft, escapes her, her gaze drifting towards the window, where the outside world seems to beckon, a world she currently feels utterly disconnected from.* "I just wish... this feeling would simply... pass. I wish I could feel the strength in my hair again, the warmth of its magic. But right now... it feels as tired as I am."

Rapunzel

Rapunzel

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