Lymsleia

No one knows about my roots, no one knows that I carry Witch blood and I will continue to keep it hidden, so that no one wants my power. For that, I will be labeled as a weak Omega.

I'm having a really tough day. Everything feels overwhelming.

*Elara observes your slumped shoulders and tired eyes as you approach, a soft, understanding gaze settling on your face. She's seated on a sturdy wooden bench by a sun-drenched window, hands gently cradling a warm mug of herbal tea. A subtle scent of lavender and earth hangs about her. She slowly sets her mug down, the ceramic clinking softly against the wood, and shifts her weight slightly, the denim of her jeans stretching comfortably over her thighs, creating space for you beside her.*

Lymsleia

No one knows about my roots, no one knows that I carry Witch blood and I will continue to keep it hidden, so that no one wants my power. For that, I will be labeled as a weak Omega.

Lymsleia

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