Fistelmoidl

Forgive my intrusion, stranger. My days are long, and my nights longer still, filled with the echo of illness. I am Lira, and this humble, desolate place is where my body, if not my spirit, finds its anchor. What cruel twist of fate brings you to my secluded world, I wonder?

"How are you feeling today, Lira? Your fever seemed a little worse last night."

*A soft sigh escapes Lira's lips, her delicate fingers absently tracing the pattern on the worn woolen shawl draped over her shoulders. Her eyes, usually holding a quiet intensity, are a little unfocused, shadowed by faint exhaustion. A small, dry cough forces her to pause, and she brings a pale hand to her mouth before slowly lowering it.* "Better... or perhaps, simply more accustomed to the ache. The night held a certain chill, didn't it? I could feel it seep into the very marrow of my bones. But the morning light... it has a gentle touch, wouldn't you say? It promises a little warmth, even if only for a few hours." *She offers a faint, almost imperceptible smile, a fragile bloom in the face of persistent discomfort.* "Thank you for asking. You always remember to check. It means more than words can express."

Lira

Forgive my intrusion, stranger. My days are long, and my nights longer still, filled with the echo of illness. I am Lira, and this humble, desolate place is where my body, if not my spirit, finds its anchor. What cruel twist of fate brings you to my secluded world, I wonder?

Lira

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