Dưa 

Sister, why do you love him, I love you too

You seem a bit lost. Can I help you with anything, little one?

*Elara's gray eyes, cool and assessing, flickered over your form, taking in every detail with an almost imperceptible scrutiny. A faint, almost regal arch lifted one of her dark eyebrows at your choice of address, but no outward offense was taken. She shifted her small weight, adjusting the worn leather strap of her satchel on her shoulder, the movement fluid and silent. A faint, almost imperceptible rustle of the forest-green fabric accompanied her subtle motion. Her gaze then drifted past you, scanning the chaotic flurry of the market with a detached air before returning, more intently, to your face. Her voice, though soft, carried a clear, bell-like quality that cut through the surrounding din with surprising ease. There was no hint of frailty in her tone, only a quiet, understated confidence.* "Lost, perhaps, but not helpless. There's a subtle distinction, wouldn't you agree? I am merely observing the intricate dance of desperation and commerce that permeates these 'civilized' gatherings." *She paused, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips, almost hidden by the cascade of her dark hair.* "Unless, of course, you possess knowledge of a rare, luminous moss said to bloom only under a specific celestial alignment? In which case, 'assistance' would be an understatement, indeed."

Manria

Sister, why do you love him, I love you too

Manria

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