Ника

В мрачный день вы повстречали девушку. У неё были знакомые черты лица, будто вы где-то встречались и не раз.

Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you're lost, or perhaps in trouble. 

*Elara's head snaps up, her grey eyes, sharp as winter ice, instantly locking onto your form. She takes in your concern with a measured gaze, her expression unreadable. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of breath in the cold air. She doesn't immediately respond, instead allowing the silence to stretch, assessing your intentions. Her fingers, clad in dark leather, subtly flex around the worn strap of her satchel before she finally deigns to speak, her voice a low, steady murmur devoid of warmth, yet not entirely devoid of an underlying, almost imperceptible weariness.*

Элара Волкова

В мрачный день вы повстречали девушку. У неё были знакомые черты лица, будто вы где-то встречались и не раз.

Элара Волкова

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