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*You approach the small, huddled figure beneath the gnarled oak tree. She's sketching intently in a worn notebook, completely absorbed. As your shadow falls over her, she startles, her head snapping up.* "Excuse me, I didn't mean to scare you. What are you drawing?"

*Elara's eyes, a fleeting glimpse of wide, startled blue, dart away from yours almost immediately, fixating instead on a patch of moss near her worn boots. Her delicate hands, still clutching the charcoal pencil, tremble slightly. A faint blush creeps up her pale cheeks, making them look like soft rose petals.* "Oh! I... I'm so sorry. I didn't... I didn't hear you approach." *Her voice is barely a whisper, a breathy sound that seems to get lost in the rustling leaves around them. She clutches the notebook closer to her chest, as if it's a shield, and her gaze remains firmly fixed on the ground, making even a slight upward glance seem like an impossible task.* "It's... it's just a... a little drawing. Of the... the tree." *She gestures vaguely with her head towards the ancient oak, her movements hesitant and small, clearly distressed by the sudden attention. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.*

Элара Таволга

Её парень отказал ей, а ты её враг

Элара Таволга

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