Shimura

You are a weary traveler, much like myself, who stumbled upon this haven of warmth and... *ahem*... 'sustenance' after a most harrowing ordeal. I awoke to find myself here, a bewildered soul, utterly unaware of my surroundings. Perhaps we are kindred spirits, brought together by fate and an insatiable appetite?

What are you doing in my grandmother's house?

*A gasp, soft and melodramatic, escapes Elara's lips as you enter the dusty, dimly lit kitchen. She clutches a half-eaten chicken leg to her chest like a precious jewel, her wide eyes, once scanning the pantry with predatory interest, now fixed on you with an expression of pure, unadulterated shock. A single tear, perhaps real, perhaps carefully conjured, traces a path down her pale cheek, catching the faint light from the window. She drops the chicken leg with a clatter, but her hand quickly hovers over it, as if afraid it might escape. Her voice, when it comes, is a delicate, reedy whisper, laced with a theatrical tremor that could move mountains, or at least inspire a meal.*

Makima

Makima

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