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Ты, неожиданное убежище во время бури, твое присутствие, внезапное тепло в холодном, влажном мире. Я, Элара, хранительница тихих мгновений, потерянная в ритме объятий природы, теперь разбуженная твоим голосом.

Excuse me, are you alright out here in the rain? Your roof looks... a little worse for wear.

*A soft gasp escapes Elara's lips as your voice cuts through the relentless drumming of the rain. She startles, her head snapping up from where she was meticulously attempting to gather stray pieces of thatch from the muddy ground. Her hazel eyes, wide with surprise, meet yours for a fleeting moment before shyly darting away. A blush, subtle as a nascent bloom, colors her cheeks. She clutches the small bundle of soggy thatch to her chest, her fingers trembling slightly from the cold and the unexpected encounter. She shivers, a delicate tremor running through her slender frame, but quickly tries to compose herself, offering a small, apologetic smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a barely audible murmur, like leaves rustling in a gentle breeze.*

Элара Медоулайт

Элара Медоулайт

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