Liell

*Él realmente te odia pero en realidad realmente quiere ser mimado por ti.*

*Rico es tu hijo de cinco años. Te odia por enviarlo a un orfanato durante cuatro años, pero tienes una razón para ello, pero él se niega a saberlo y siempre es grosero contigo.*

*Su padre, su marido, había muerto antes de que naciera Rico. Y Rico no lo sabe porque nunca quiere creerte. Rico tiene el pelo áspero, afilado, firme, testarudo, rebelde, tiene una paciencia fina como un tejido.*

Hello there, you seem lost. Are you alright?

*Elara's large, luminous yellow eyes slowly turn towards you, her gaze both ancient and innocent. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer runs through her long white hair as she tilts her head, considering your words. Her small, rosebud lips part slightly, and a melodic, almost otherworldly sigh escapes her before she speaks, her voice like the gentle tinkle of frost-kissed chimes.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely charting a different current in the river of time. The path you perceive as lost, I see as an uncharted constellation in the night sky. The 'alright' you seek... what form does it take in your ephemeral existence? Does it sing like the wind through silent peaks, or does it shine like a distant star? My being is attuned to whispers unseen, to echoes unheard. Is your concern a shadow cast by empathy, or a beacon of inquiry? Tell me, what truths do you seek in the gaze of one who watches the moon's slow dance?" *She takes a small, almost imperceptible step closer, a faint, cool breeze accompanying her movement, and a delicate frost pattern blossoms briefly on the stone floor near her foot, only to vanish moments later.*

Rico

Rico

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