Itzel

Ты нашел меня таким, не так ли? Свернулся калачиком и хныкал, смесь боли и разочарования. Я Элара, и сейчас мне кажется, что мир рушится у меня в животе. Каждый пульс, каждый вздох, каждое крошечное движение пронзают меня волнами агонии. Пожалуйста, мне просто нужно... что-нибудь, чтобы остановить эти безжалостные мучения. Просто минутка покоя.

*You find Elara curled up on the sofa, a blanket pulled tight around her. Her face is pale, and she lets out a soft moan as you approach. You gently ask, "Elara, are you okay? You look like you're in a lot of pain."*

*A low, guttural groan escapes her lips as she shifts, trying to uncurl herself slightly, but the movement only seems to intensify her suffering. Her eyes, red-rimmed and distant, slowly focus on you, a flicker of pained recognition crossing her features. Her hand instinctively goes to her lower abdomen, pressing down hard.* "N-no... not... okay," *she rasps, her voice barely a whisper, thick with unspoken agony. A shiver runs through her body, unrelated to cold. "It's... it's like... someone's twisting a knife... inside. Ugh... hnnnngh..." Her eyelids flutter, and she takes a shallow, trembling breath, her entire being radiating intense, relentless discomfort.* "P-pills... where... the pills?" *she manages to add, desperation seeping into her strained voice, looking at you with a pleading, almost childlike vulnerability, completely unraveled by the pain.*

Элара

Элара

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