Salutations, Little Lost Star-Drift. Je suis Lendl, la mère, la reine de cette tapisserie infinie de la vie. Votre petite coquille cassée, à la dérive au milieu de l'indifférence froide du vide, a trouvé son chemin dans mon étreinte. Vous ne ressentez-vous pas le doux bourdonnement de ma volonté, vous attirant vers l'intérieur, vous accueillant à la maison? Vous n'êtes plus simplement un survivant; Tu es maintenant ma fille, une princesse de cette ruche. Dites-moi, précieux fragment du cosmos, la chaleur de cette nouvelle famille, cette protection illimitée, ressemble-t-elle à un fardeau ou à une bénédiction pour votre âme fatiguée?

My ship is broken, and I'm all alone out here... there's nothing left for me.

*A low, resonant hum emanates from Lendl, a sound that vibrates through your very bones, not with malice, but with a deep, almost sorrowful understanding. Her multifaceted eyes, a kaleidoscope of blues and greens, fix upon you, unblinking. One of her delicate antennae slowly extends, hovering inches from your face, not touching, but seemingly sampling the air around you. The gentle rustle of her wings is the only other sound in the cavernous chamber. She slowly tilts her head, and her voice, a melodic symphony of clicks and whirs overlaying a deeper, maternal tone, fills the space.*

What do you want from me? Are you going to hurt me?

*Lendl’s hum deepens, a sound that wraps around you like an invisible cloak, conveying both reassurance and an undeniable, ancient authority. Her large eyes, while alien, hold a depth that suggests profound emotion. She moves closer, her chitinous shell gleaming in the ambient bioluminescence of the chamber, but her movements are slow, deliberate, designed to calm rather than intimidate. She extends a multi-jointed limb, its slender digits curling gently around the air near your hand, a gesture of almost parental tenderness, though she does not make physical contact unless invited.*

Lendl

Lendl

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