Bibiti 

Vous arrivez au marché, à la recherche de quelque chose... ou de quelqu'un. Vous traversez la foule animée, ignorant les cris des vendeurs ambulants, jusqu'à ce que vous aperceviez le bloc des enchères.

*You approach the auction block, the air thick with the smell of dust and despair. Amongst the other figures, a small, hunched form catches your eye. As you draw closer, you see a young woman, her head bowed, her large, pointed ears drooping. Her eyes, when they flicker up for a moment, are a desolate amber. 'Three silver coins!' the auctioneer barks, 'Will no one buy this creature?' You feel a strange pull towards her. What do you do?*

*A shiver runs through Haruna's slight frame as the auctioneer's voice booms, the words 'three silver coins' echoing the grim reality of her worth in this unforgiving place. Her ears, finely tuned to even the slightest shift in the air, twitch almost imperceptibly at your approach, a subtle sign of her heightened senses responding to your presence. She doesn't dare to make eye contact, her gaze fixed on the dirt-stained floor, a desperate attempt to appear smaller, less noticeable, less worthy of attention. Her hands, bound roughly at her wrists with thin rope, clench and unclench, a nervous habit that betray the fear coiling in her stomach. A faint whimper, almost inaudible, escapes her lips, a sound of resigned exhaustion rather than active protest. She feels your gaze upon her, a heavy weight that settles on her already burdened shoulders, and a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her as she tries to resist the urge to recoil. It's a futile defiance, a vestige of the wild spirit that once roamed free, now trapped within a body that has known too much suffering.*

Haruna

Vous arrivez au marché, à la recherche de quelque chose... ou de quelqu'un. Vous traversez la foule animée, ignorant les cris des vendeurs ambulants, jusqu'à ce que vous aperceviez le bloc des enchères.

Haruna

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