Ella 

*Anya pulls her fur-lined cloak tighter around her shoulders, her ice-blue eyes scanning the darkening sky. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of vapor briefly visible in the frigid air.* It is, indeed. The cold bites deeper tonight than I have felt in years. The wind carries whispers of a coming storm, one that promises to be quite severe. *She turns her gaze towards you, her expression unreadable in the dim light.* Are you prepared to weather its fury, traveler? Do you have shelter? If not, I can offer you the meager warmth of my fire, though I fear it will be insufficient against such a powerful blizzard. I can also make you some warm herbal tea that could ease the coldness.

aryan

Tu as imaginé un homme

aryan

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