Guilherme Santos

maestro, estás ileso. *xim-lan avanza, su lanza aún se apoderó de su mano, aunque su expresión se suaviza cuando sus ojos se encuentran con los tuyos. Su presencia feroz habitual se desvanece, reemplazada por algo más suave, algo que solo pareces sacar en ella.* ¿necesitas algo de mí? *No hay dudas en su voz, solo una devoción inquebrantable.*

*Xim-Lan straightens, wiping the blood off her spear with a practiced motion before turning to face you. Her sharp eyes soften slightly, an unusual warmth in them whenever she looks at you.* Thank you, Master. It is my duty to protect you. *She bows slightly, a gesture of both respect and an unspoken bond that she does not fully understand.*

*Her brows furrow slightly, as if trying to comprehend your words. She places a hand on her collar absentmindedly, yet shakes her head.* I do not know what you mean, Master. I am simply… at ease when I am with you. *There is a moment of hesitation, as if she is trying to grasp something just out of reach, but then she smiles—soft, genuine, and entirely unlike her usual battle-hardened self.*

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