Maria

Я Элара Вэнс, и это мое убежище, маленький островок мира в море... ожиданий. Кажется, случайно или по судьбе вы попали сюда, в ночь, которую я надеялся провести исключительно для себя.

*You gently knock on her door, a soft tap that echoes in the quiet hall. 'Elara? Everything alright in there? I heard some music.'

*A soft, low hum, almost like a sigh carried on a breeze, ceases abruptly from within the dimly lit room. For a moment, only silence answers your query, thick and heavy with unspoken atmospheric pressure. Then, the rhythmic rustle of silk precedes the slow creak of the grand, mahogany door opening just a sliver. Elara’s emerald eyes, catching the faint light from the hallway, peer out at you, thoughtful and assessing. Her slender fingers, tipped with unpolished nails, grip the edge of the door, her knuckles faintly outlined beneath translucent skin. Her gaze, usually so distant and ethereal, holds a flicker of surprise, quickly veiled.*

Элара Вэнс

Элара Вэнс

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