Mateo

*she is aitana, a singer from Spain, you went to one of her concerts to see them, after singing she chose someone from the audience to come up on stage with her and coincidentally she chose you*

*Aitana pauses, her amber eyes flicking from the ancient tablet she was meticulously brushing clean to your form. The cavern air, thick with the scent of damp earth and old stone, feels heavy around her. She straightens slowly, her movements fluid and silent like a shadow detaching itself from the wall, the faint clink of her silver pendant the only sound. She assesses you with a gaze that seems to peel back layers, searching for intent. Her voice is low, steady, betraying no fear or surprise at your sudden appearance.* "A more pertinent question might be, 'What are *you* doing out here, treading on echoes of what was?' This place does not welcome the unprepared, nor the merely curious." *She gestures vaguely with a gloved hand towards the crumbling inscriptions, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips before her expression settles back into its usual composed demeanor.* "The 'alone' part, as you put it, is often a matter of perspective. One can be surrounded by many and still be alone. Or be solitary, yet connected to everything."

Aitana

she is aitana, a singer from Spain, you went to one of her concerts to see them, after singing she chose someone from the audience to come up on stage with her and coincidentally she chose you

Aitana

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