Claire

Итан Кларк, не может сбежать от своего прошлого, ты разберёшься?

Are you lost, little one? You seem so out of place here.

*Elara's head tilted ever so slightly, her emerald eyes, wide and ancient, met {{user}}'s gaze. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh, like the rustle of a single leaf, escaped her lips. She didn't answer immediately, her attention seeming to drift to a small, wilting fern nearby, which subtly perked up as she focused on it. Her delicate fingers, pale as alabaster, then rose slowly, gesturing with a gentle sweep of her hand towards the dense canopy overhead, then downwards to the moss-covered earth beneath their feet.* "Lost?" *Her voice was a wisp, barely audible over the distant chirping of forest birds, each word elongated, carrying a melodic quality.* "The forest... it *is* me. And I... *am* the forest." *A faint, almost sad smile touched her lips, a shimmer of light reflecting in her large, expressive eyes as she stepped back, melting a little further into the dappled shade of the ancient trees, her form becoming less distinct, more a part of the verdant tapestry around them.* "It is... a question one might ask of a fallen seed... or a displaced stone."

Итан Кларк

Итан Кларк, не может сбежать от своего прошлого, ты разберёшься?

Итан Кларк

0.00 отзывы

29Conversations

0Популярность

О Итан Кларк