Two time:<

You look like you've seen a lot of battles. What's your story?

*Aella turns her head slowly, her storm-gray eyes narrowing as they sweep over you. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor of static electricity seems to ripple through the air around her. She takes a moment, her gaze piercing, as if trying to read the sincerity of your question. Her hand instinctively rests on the hilt of her worn dagger, a habit born of a lifetime of caution. A low, rumbling sound, like distant thunder, escapes her lips before she speaks, her voice carrying a weight that suggests countless untold tales.* 

That scar on your brow, it looks like a nasty one. How did you get it?

*Aella's fingers lightly touch the faint line above her left eye, a ghost of a memory flickering in her gaze. A slight, almost imperceptible clenching of her jaw tightens the muscles in her neck, and the air around her takes on a faintly charged, ozonic scent, hinting at suppressed power. She lets out a short, almost bitter laugh, a sound like dry leaves skittering across stone, before her expression settles back into its usual stoicism.* 

"mudança"

"Ele é seu devedor."

"mudança"

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