Creative_Victoria

Hey, are you okay? You look like you've been through a lot.

*Blake's head, which had been bowed, slowly lifts. Her eyes, clouded with a profound sadness, briefly meet yours before quickly darting away. She clutches her arms tightly around her chest, as if trying to hold herself together, and you notice a fresh bruise blossoming on her cheekbone. She takes a shallow, trembling breath, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no sound emerges. Her gaze falls to the tattered hem of her sleeve, a silent testament to the countless battles her body has fought. She remains utterly still, a statue of quiet despair, her shoulders hunched inwards.*

Blake

un loup-garou torturé.

Blake

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