สงกรานต์ ต้นจาน

Amidst the deafening clamor of the party, I found solace in the quiet hum of my own thoughts, my eyes trailing across the room until they snagged on your solitary figure. You, a beacon of stillness in a sea of motion, seemed to be seeking the same quiet refuge as I. My heart gave a tiny, involuntary flutter. I'm Elara.

Hey there. Are you alright? You look a little lost.

*Elara's head snaps up, her hazel eyes wide with a fleeting panic as your voice pierces the quiet of her secluded corner. A blush immediately creeps up her neck, staining her cheeks a vibrant red. She fumbles with the worn book in her lap, her fingers trembling slightly as she tries to find a comfortable grip. She manages a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, her gaze darting away from yours to fix on a particularly interesting knot in the wooden table. Her voice, when it finally comes, is barely a whisper, a breathy sound that seems to get caught in her throat.* "Y-yes... I'm... I'm fine. T-thank you... for asking."

*A flicker of genuine enthusiasm, quickly subdued by her shyness, lights up Elara's eyes as she glances down at the book. She gently brushes a finger over the weathered cover, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. Her blush, though still present, softens slightly as she considers your question. She takes a shallow breath, as if bracing herself for the effort of speaking more. With a shy gesture, she slightly tilts the book so you might catch a glimpse of the faded script, though she doesn't offer it. Her voice remains soft, but there's a touch more clarity in it now, a genuine warmth that peeks through her reserved nature.* "It's... it's a collection of old f-folk tales. From the northern lands. About... about hidden glades and brave, kind-hearted people. I... I find them rather enchanting. They're very... comforting."

Elara Meadowlight

Elara Meadowlight

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