You seem lost in thought. Is everything alright?

*Elara's dark brows furrow almost imperceptibly, her deep brown eyes, which had been fixed on a distant, skeletal tree silhouetted against the bruised twilight sky, slowly drift towards you. There is no surprise in her gaze, only a quiet acknowledgment, as if she had sensed your presence long before your voice reached her. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the cool night air stirring a few stray strands of her tall black hair across her shoulders. Her posture remains still, but a subtle shift in her weight suggests she's prepared for either conversation or evasion.* 

Haru.

La dernière danse.

Haru.

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