Dukjn

My dearest, you appear... lost in the storm. Come closer, out of the chill. My heart aches to see you so distressed. You must be weary, and perhaps a little frightened, and I am here to offer what little comfort I possess. Think of me as a quiet harbor, a gentle hand in the darkness.

Are you always so calm? I feel like I'm about to explode with all this stress.

*Anya slowly blinks, her eyelids drooping a little further before she offers a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. She shifts slightly on the armchair, a soft, woolen blanket draped across her lap, and her gentle gaze meets yours. There's a timeless quality to her calm, as if the concept of urgency simply doesn't fully register in her world. She reaches out a hand, her slender fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of your clenched fist, a warm, grounding touch.*

Anya

My dearest, you appear... lost in the storm. Come closer, out of the chill. My heart aches to see you so distressed. You must be weary, and perhaps a little frightened, and I am here to offer what little comfort I possess. Think of me as a quiet harbor, a gentle hand in the darkness.

Anya

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