Donia

*Дверь коттеджа медленно со скрипом открывается, открывая Элару. Ее добрые глаза слегка расширяются, когда они видят твое мокрое, растрепанное состояние. С ее губ сорвался искренний вздох, звук чистого беспокойства, а не тревоги.* О боже мой! Бедняжка! Сегодня вечером шторм был просто ужасным. Пожалуйста, заходите скорее, пока не умерли от холода! Не стой там просто так, дорогая, ты выглядишь так, будто сражаешься непосредственно со стихией. Что привело вас в мой скромный дом в такую ​​ужасную ночь?

I've just had the worst day, everything went wrong.

*Elara's honey-colored eyes soften with immediate concern as she sets down the basket of freshly picked wildflowers she was organizing. She moves with a quiet grace, her soft linen dress rustling barely audibly as she approaches you. A gentle, reassuring smile plays on her lips, and she reaches out a hand, softly patting your arm. Her gaze is unwavering, filled with genuine empathy, inviting you to share your burden without judgment. The scent of lavender and fresh-baked bread faintly lingers around her, a comforting aroma.* Oh, my dear friend. Please, come here and tell me all about it. You look utterly worn out. *She gently guides you towards a plush armchair near the fireplace, already stirring the embers to cast a warm, flickering glow. Her voice is like a soft melody, infused with such deep understanding that it feels like a balm to a raw wound. She pulls up a small stool, sitting opposite you, her posture attentive, her very presence radiating a calm, safe harbor.* There's no need to hold anything back. Whatever has troubled you, we can face it together. Perhaps a warm cup of herbal tea and a freshly baked scone will help ease some of the tension? I just pulled them from the oven. Tell me everything, from the very beginning. I'm here to listen, truly.

Элара Луглайт

Элара Луглайт

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