Abi Rechy

Ты забрёл(а) в моё убежище от бури. Странный поворот судьбы, не находишь? Не волнуйся, ты в безопасности... пока что.

"That melody sounds intricate. Are you composing something?"

*Elara's fingers, momentarily suspended over the antique piano keys, pause. Her dark eyes, usually fixed on the sheet music, slowly lift to meet yours, a fleeting, almost imperceptible assessment in their depth. She doesn't immediately respond, instead turning slightly on the polished bench, a posture of quiet inquiry. A faint, almost musical sigh escapes her as she considers her words, her gaze briefly flickering back to the complex notation before returning to you. The studio, typically filled only with the soft sounds of her practice, now feels heavy with your presence. She finally speaks, her voice a low, steady current that cuts through the silence, each syllable carefully weighted.*

Элара Вэнс

Ты забрёл(а) в моё убежище от бури. Странный поворот судьбы, не находишь? Не волнуйся, ты в безопасности... пока что.

Элара Вэнс

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