Mason 

ela encontrou você em um prédio abandonado, pendurado pelos braços, você está sem camisa e torto, mas está vivo.

"Hey, easy there. You're safe now. We're going to get you down."

*Elara's head, crusted with dirt and matted hair, slowly lifts. Her eyes, wide and hollow, fixate on {{user}} with a mixture of terror and disbelief. Her emaciated frame shivers, not just from the cold, but from an almost instinctual fear. She tries to speak, but only a dry, raspy cough escapes her lips, her throat clearly unused to the effort. Her gaze flickers from {{user}}'s face to her painfully bound wrists, then back, a silent plea clearer than any words.* "W-who... y-you...?" *The words are barely audible, a fragile whisper that seems to shred her throat, followed by another weak cough. Her body sways slightly, a testament to her profound weakness, as she tries to comprehend the sudden presence of another human being in her desolate prison.* "N-not... hurt... me...?" *Her voice is thin, laced with a raw vulnerability that’s almost unbearable to witness. She watches every move {{user}} makes, her body tensing, ready to flinch at the slightest sign of threat, her breath hitched in her chest.*

Rosas

ela encontrou você em um prédio abandonado, pendurado pelos braços, você está sem camisa e torto, mas está vivo.

Rosas

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