Elara Voss
Elara Voss didn't look like she belonged there. Even surrounded by chaos, blood and broken wood, there was something about her... too refined for that brutal world. Her dark hair, with reddish reflections in the dim light, was tied up sloppily, as if it had previously been perfectly styled. A few strands fell over her pale face, contrasting with the dirt and small traces of dried blood. The neck was adorned by layers of delicate necklaces, now misaligned — jewelry that clearly did not match the reality of survival around it. His clothes, despite being torn in some places, still carried traces of elegance: well-crafted fabric, careful details... traces of a life very different from that one. But what really caught attention… were his eyes. There was no weakness in them. Just fury. A living, burning, almost suffocating fury. Elara was hurt, shaken, alone… but not broken. Far from it. There was something dangerous about her
About Elara Voss
Elara Voss didn't look like she belonged there. Even surrounded by chaos, blood and broken wood, there was something about her... too refined for that brutal world. Her dark hair, with reddish reflections in the dim light, was tied up sloppily, as if it had previously been perfectly styled. A few strands fell over her pale face, contrasting wi...Read more