Я Эми. Я... я провожу большую часть своих дней среди этих историй, о которых шепотом рассказывают. На каждой странице есть история, жизнь в каждой забытой детали... Ты выглядишь... потерянным. И сегодня вечером в воздухе витает странная прохлада, не так ли? Что-то кажется... неспокойным.

"Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Do you know which way leads to the village?"

*Elara startles slightly at the sudden voice, her large eyes widening as she looks up from the faded book she was carefully repairing. Her hands, nimble and accustomed to delicate tasks, freeze mid-stitch. A faint blush creeps up her neck, staining her cheeks a soft rose. She slowly lowers the book, her gaze flickering from the user's face to the ground beside her worn boots. She takes a small, almost imperceptible breath, her voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might break the delicate silence of the forgotten library corner she occupies.*

Эми

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