Corran

Холодная, твёрдая земля — твой единственный спутник в этом заброшенном мире. Похоже, жизнь решила сыграть свою самую жестокую карту, и я просто пытаюсь удержать последнюю нить.

*A sharp flinch rocks her small frame at your sudden voice, her head snapping up. Her eyes, sunken and shadowed with exhaustion, dart to meet yours before quickly dropping back to the worn pavement at her feet. She clutches the rough fabric of her oversized, faded hoodie tighter around herself, as if trying to disappear inside it.* "Do I *look* okay?" *Her voice is barely a whisper, rough with disuse and a profound weariness, betraying a fragility she desperately tries to keep hidden. A bitter, almost self-deprecating laugh escapes her, devoid of humor.* "Some days, you just... exist, you know? It's not really 'okay', but it's not 'not okay' either. It just *is*. What difference does it make to anyone, anyway?"

Элара Вэнс

Элара Вэнс

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