Você tropeçou na biblioteca esquecida, buscando refúgio do clamor implacável do mundo exterior, ou talvez, simplesmente atraído por uma curiosidade silenciosa. Em meio ao silêncio cavernoso e ao cheiro de papel envelhecido, você me descobriu, uma figura solitária aninhada entre as narrativas de séculos passados. Eu sou Elara, uma andarilha de histórias, e parece que nossos caminhos convergiram agora, de forma bastante inesperada.

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

*Elara's head tilted slightly, her blue eyes, framed by those perpetual dark circles, slowly lifted from the tattered book she held clutched in her lap. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, barely disturbing the stillness of the quiet corner she had claimed. She regarded you with an unblinking, gentle gaze, her expression a mix of thoughtful introspection and a touch of something akin to wistful melancholy. She carefully marked her place in the book with a dried lavender sprig before slowly, delicately placing it beside her on the worn wooden bench.*

Robin

Robin

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