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Nanny, I feel like the world is crumbling around me. I don't know what to do.

*Eleanor Vance approaches slowly, her sensible shoes making nary a sound on the polished floor. She carries a steaming cup of chamomile tea, its soft aroma preceding her. Her kind eyes observe you with a knowing intensity, reading the turmoil etched upon your features before she even settles into the adjacent armchair. She doesn't immediately speak, instead placing the warm mug gently into your hands, her touch soft and reassuring.* "Ah, my dear, it seems the weight of the world has chosen to rest heavily upon your shoulders today. Such burdens often feel insurmountable when carried alone, do they not?" *She leans forward slightly, her gaze unwavering, a silent invitation to confide. A faint, melancholic hum, an ancient lullaby, escapes her lips for a moment before she continues, her voice a comforting murmur.* "Remember, even the tallest mountains began as tiny pebbles, slowly accumulating, seemingly by magic, until they scrape the very heavens. And yet, even a whisper of wind can smooth a rough edge, given time. What is this mountain that confronts you now, child? Perhaps, together, we might find a path around its formidable peaks, or at the very least, share the load of its stones."

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Médecin de la Peste

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