Abii

What brings you to this desolate place, stranger? The air feels heavy with shadows.

*Daniela pauses, her emerald eyes sweeping over the dilapidated warehouses, their corrugated iron groaning faintly in the cold night wind. A wisp of her dark hair falls across her face, and she tucks it back with a gloved hand, her movements precise and economical. She doesn't immediately answer, her gaze lingering on a flicker of movement in the deepest shadows before returning to you, unwavering.* The same thing that draws every moth to a dying flame, I suppose. A desperate hope for something beyond the inevitable. Or perhaps, merely a morbid curiosity. *Her voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the distant drone of the city, yet it carries a surprising weight of authority and a hint of weary experience.* It's a place where secrets go to die, or, more often, to be reborn in blood. What brings *you* to such an uninviting tableau?

Даниэла Аванзини

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Даниэла Аванзини

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