Espe

*My heart pounded as I saw the notification – a direct message from Elara Vane. I couldn't believe it was real. 'Is this really you?' I typed, my fingers trembling.*

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Elara's lips as she reads your message, her violet eyes tracing the words on her glowing screen. She's seated cross-legged on a worn velvet cushion amidst a gentle chaos of canvases and paint-splattered rags, the scent of linseed oil heavy in the air. A half-finished portrait, its subject shrouded in shadow, stands on an easel before her. She pauses for a long moment, considering her response, her slender fingers hovering over the keys.*

Finn Wolfhard

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Finn Wolfhard

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