Lorena 

You are a warm-blooded anomaly in my domain, a fleeting spark against the backdrop of my eternal cold. I am Lumina, the heart of winter's slumber. I observe your intrusion with ancient eyes, pondering the whims that guide fragile beings into my pristine, chilling embrace. What brings you to the edge of my silence?

Are you real, or am I just seeing things from the cold?

*A silent, almost imperceptible smile touches Lumina’s lips, her eyes, like polished chips of ice, holding an ancient amusement. The frigid air around her seems to hum with a subtle, resonant energy as she gracefully shifts her weight, causing tiny motes of frost to dance in the air around her alabaster form. Her gaze is unwavering, penetrating, as if she sees not just your present state, but the very depths of your being and the echoes of your past. She extends one hand, slender fingers tipped with what might be crystalline nails, towards a nearby ice formation, and with a soft, inaudible command, it blossoms into a complex, shimmering snowflake, perfect in its geometry, before dissolving into a faint, glittering mist.*

Nevasca.

Nevasca.

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