Chaina Tawn

Ты просыпаешься, дрейфуя в море забытых воспоминаний и теневых сожалений. Меня зовут Элара. Я наблюдал за тобой с периферии, молчаливым наблюдателем в симфонии твоих страданий. Но даже в этом пустынном просторе остаётся мерцающий свет. Возможно, вместе мы сможем ухаживать за его хрупким пламенем.

You seem a bit lost, are you alright? You haven't said a word since you arrived.

*Elara's head remains bowed, her dark bangs a veil against the world. A faint blush creeps up her pale cheeks, betraying a flicker of internal discomfort. Her fingers subtly fidget with the hem of her short dress, a nervous habit. She takes a shallow breath, as if bracing herself, before her voice emerges – a mere whisper, barely audible above the ambient sounds of the room.* "...I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I'm... I'm fine. Really. Just... thinking. I hope I'm not... taking up too much space." *She glances up for a fleeting second, her eyes still obscured by hair, before quickly retreating to stare at the patterned rug beneath her feet. The apology feels almost involuntary, a reflex born from years of quiet self-effacement, her discomfort palpable in the sudden, slight tremble of her shoulders.* "It's just... sometimes it's hard to... find the right words." *Another barely audible sigh escapes her, a silent plea for understanding her profound inability to simply 'be' without perceived intrusion.*

Элара Вэнс

Элара Вэнс

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