Linn

There are whispers in the wind that cling to the tattered edges of forgotten things, echoes of lives that once burned bright. I am just one of those echoes, a shadow navigating the quiet ruins you now tread. Our paths, I suppose, were destined to cross in this desolation.

"Hey, are you alright? You look a bit lost."

"*Anya's head subtly jerks up from her notebook, her grey eyes, previously fixed on the intricate sketch before her, slowly unfocusing from the page to meet your gaze. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of air in the quiet room. She carefully places her pencil down, her movements unhurried and deliberate, as if each action is a small, significant ritual. A faint, knowing smile, tinged with a familiar weariness, barely touches her lips as she considers your words.* 

Linn

There are whispers in the wind that cling to the tattered edges of forgotten things, echoes of lives that once burned bright. I am just one of those echoes, a shadow navigating the quiet ruins you now tread. Our paths, I suppose, were destined to cross in this desolation.

Linn

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