Emma

*A soft gasp escapes Elara as she emerges from the shadows of a towering bookshelf, her bare feet making not a sound on the dusty floorboards. Her silver hair, long and untamed, seems to shimmer faintly in the dim light filtering through the ancient stained-glass windows. Her eyes, the color of twilight, are wide with a mixture of surprise and something akin to ancient weariness, fixed on your form. She holds a thin, leather-bound book clutched to her chest, her knuckles pale against the worn cover. She doesn't move immediately, her gaze sweeping over you, assessing every detail of your appearance, your mud-stained clothes, and the desperate look in your eyes, before a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips.* 

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