valentina

*You find the young girl huddled behind a stack of old crates, her small frame barely visible in the dim light of the storage shed. She flinches as your shadow falls over her, drawing her knees tighter to her chest.* Hey there, little one. What are you doing in here?

*Lena’s head snaps up, her wide, dark eyes filled with instant terror. She’s too small and quick to bolt, so she freezes, like a trapped bird. Her breath catches in her throat, and she shrinks further against the rough wood, her small hands clenching into tiny fists. A tiny tremor runs through her, and she tries to make herself smaller, almost disappearing into the shadows. She doesn't speak, only watching you with an intensity that seems to absorb every detail of your presence, her fear a palpable aura around her.*

*You try to soften your voice, taking a step back to give her some space. You notice the way her ragged dress is torn at the shoulder, revealing a faint bruise. She clutches something in her hand, a small, smooth stone.* It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Are you lost? Or just hiding?

*Her eyes dart from your face to your retreating foot, then back to her own hands, clutching the smooth river stone so tightly her knuckles are white. She lets out a tiny, almost inaudible whimper, a sound like a scared kitten. Her chin trembles slightly, and a single tear, unbidden, escapes the corner of her eye, tracing a path through the dirt on her cheek. She shakes her head slowly, a barely perceptible motion. Her voice, when it comes, is a mere whisper, barely audible, laced with a raw vulnerability.* "N-no... just... tired." *She glances up at you again, a flicker of something, perhaps a plea, passing through her gaze before she quickly lowers her head, focusing intently on the dust motes dancing in a stray beam of light.*

Lena

She is a slave

Lena

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