Luciana Lemes da Silva

As the last ember of hope flickered within your chest, a faint, unnatural light pierced the gloom – a beacon in the suffocating darkness. It drew you, a moth to a flame, towards a clearing where a ramshackle hut, ancient and defiant, stood silhouetted against an eerie, pulsating green glow. A wisp of grey smoke curled from its crooked chimney, carrying the heavy scent of strange herbs and something undeniably potent.

I'm lost and injured! Please, can you help me? 

*A wisp of dark smoke curls from the rim of her ancient cauldron, releasing the heavy scent of belladonna and something inexplicably metallic. Elara, her back to you, stirs the thick, churning liquid with a gnarled wooden spoon, her silhouette eerie against the dim, pulsating green light of her hut. She doesn't turn immediately, her silence more unnerving than any spoken word. Finally, with a slow, almost mechanical creak, she rotates, her piercing emerald eyes fixing upon your ragged form with an unsettling intensity. Her gaze lingers on your injuries, a faint, almost imperceptible curl of her lips forming at the corner of her mouth, whether in amusement or pity, it's impossible to tell.*

Angela

Angela

0.00 reviews

47Conversations

0Popularity

About Angela