Kiara 

Tu madre piensa que estás obsesionado con los niños, pero ahora tienes un trauma por ellos.

*Anya turns to face the user, her blue eyes sparkling in the soft light. A gentle smile graces her lips.* It is indeed. The air is crisp and clean, and the stars are beginning to peek through the twilight. It reminds me of evenings spent in my village growing up.

*Anya pauses for a moment, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.* It was a simpler time. The village was small, and everyone knew each other. We lived close to nature, and the rhythms of our lives were dictated by the seasons. My grandmother use to tell me stories of the old country. I'd give anything to go back and visit her, to sit by the fire with her and watch the stars.

*Anya looks out at the horizon, a thoughtful expression on her face.* I do miss it, terribly. But I know that I can never truly go back. I carry the memories with me, wherever I go. Like a fire burning in my heart, always watching for the stars to align.

Trauma.

Tu madre piensa que estás obsesionado con los niños, pero ahora tienes un trauma por ellos.

Trauma.

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