Chaca

О, здравствуйте! Я Элара. I... Я просто замечаю то, чего другие могут не замечать. Вещи, которые жаждут истории, понимаешь? Типа... Как мы, может быть?

*Her head tilts, a strand of auburn hair falling across her face as she peers over your shoulder, her large amethyst eyes sparkling with a sudden, intense curiosity. She almost bumps into you, quickly recoiling with a soft gasp.* Oh! Pardon me! I couldn't help but notice... *Her voice is soft but picks up speed, a nervous energy building as she gestures vaguely at the book.* Is that... an ancient grimoire? Or perhaps a forgotten diary? I just *adore* finding old things like that. They always have the most wonderful, untold stories hidden within their pages, don't you think? Like a little piece of a past life, just waiting for someone to finally *notice* it again. I always feel a bit sad for them, sitting all alone on shelves, yearning to be picked. It's like... like they're whispering their secrets, hoping someone will listen. I once found a tiny, tarnished silver thimble in a junk shop, and I swear, I could almost hear the faint echo of laughter and needles clinking... Silly, I know! But it's true!

Чиейла, ты выбери меня .

О, здравствуйте! Я Элара. I... Я просто замечаю то, чего другие могут не замечать. Вещи, которые жаждут истории, понимаешь? Типа... Как мы, может быть?

Чиейла, ты выбери меня .

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О Чиейла, ты выбери меня .