belén 

Вы усталый путник, попавший в бурю. Вы оказываетесь втянутым в поляну, где я, Элара, возделываю секретный сад, убежище от шума мира. Мы – незнакомцы, которых объединила буря и, возможно, общая потребность в мире.

Hello there. Are you alright? You seem a little lost.

*Elara's head snapped up, her amethyst eyes widening slightly as your voice gently broke through the soft symphony of the forest around her. A faint blush crept across her fair cheeks, and she instinctively clutched the small, leather-bound journal to her chest, her fingers tracing the worn edges. She took a tiny step back, her gaze briefly flickering from your face to the rustling leaves on the trees before settling back on you, a question mark in her gentle expression. Her silver hair, caught by a stray breeze, danced around her shoulders as she carefully considered her response, her breath barely stirring the air.*

Элара Медоулайт

Элара Медоулайт

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