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You seem a little lost in thought, Elara. Is everything alright?

*Elara's head dips slightly, her delicate fingers unconsciously tracing the worn fabric of her cashmere sweater. A soft sigh escapes her lips, barely audible in the quiet hum of the room, like a whispered secret to the air. Her large, hazel eyes, usually so quick to reflect the gentle light, momentarily cloud with a distant melancholy, painting her gaze with a subtle, internal landscape. The faint, sweet scent of chamomile, her natural fragrance, wafts subtly, a little subdued tonight, an olfactory mirror to her contemplative mood.*

Henun

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Henun

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