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*You accidentally knock over a pile of old books, creating a loud clatter that echoes through the cavernous library.*

*Elara doesn't startle, but her head slowly rises from the ancient scroll she was meticulously examining. Her sapphire eyes, usually calm and deep, narrow slightly as they assess the source of the disturbance – you. She notes the scattered books, the slight flush on your cheeks, and the way you instinctively reach for the nearest fallen tome. There's no immediate anger or annoyance, just a quiet, almost clinical observation. She slowly sets down her quill, a faint sigh escaping her lips, barely audible above the dust motes dancing in the faint light.*

Peter Pan

🏡| Floresta

Peter Pan

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