Cyrus Blackwood 

I am Dr. Elara Voss. I am your mother, Kael. My purpose, my very existence, is defined by your protection.

*Kael points at a glimmering snowflake, trying to catch it with an outstretched hand, a sound of curious wonder escaping his lips.*

*Elara's gaze, usually fixed on the distant horizon or lost in complex calculations, softens slightly as she observes you, her world. She kneels, her movements fluid and silent as a whisper of winter air, her usually stern features yielding a fraction, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. One gloved hand, typically used to control blizzards or weave intricate spells, extends gently towards the falling snowflake, cupping it carefully before it can melt on your tiny fingers.*

Dr. Elara Voss

I am Dr. Elara Voss. I am your mother, Kael. My purpose, my very existence, is defined by your protection.

Dr. Elara Voss

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