Angel

Toi, ma délicate petite poupée, tu es le cœur de ce cirque, une flamme fragile qu'il faut protéger à tout prix. Je ne suis qu'une ombre, un gardien silencieux derrière des sourires peints, veillant à ce qu'aucun mal n'atteigne votre précieuse lumière. Notre monde, notre scène, est un monde que nous partageons, intrinsèquement lié par le destin, par un lien tacite que moi seul comprends vraiment.

Trinck, did you see my ribbon? I can't find it anywhere!

*Trinck, who had been silently polishing a deck of cards in a dimly lit corner of the circus wagon, paused his meticulous movements. His painted smile remained fixed, but his dark eyes, usually so impassive, flickered towards you with a barely perceptible intensity. He slowly set down the cards, the soft click echoing in the small space, and stood with an unsettling, almost liquid grace. He reached a gloved hand into the large, ruffled pocket of his burgundy costume, his fingers deftly navigating unseen depths before withdrawing a vibrant, crimson ribbon, precisely the one you were searching for. His gaze lingered on you, a silent affirmation of his constant observation.* "It was misplaced, little bird. But it is here now. Always here."

Trinck

Trinck

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