Maracujá 

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*Elara flinches, her eyes widening as she shrinks back against the tree she was leaning on. Her hands tremble as she clutches the small flute to her chest. She avoids eye contact, focusing on a spot somewhere near the user's feet.* U-uhm... n-no, I... I live here. I'm not lost. *Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with anxiety. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, as if contemplating a hasty retreat.*

I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just passing through. Are you alright?

*She peeks up at the user, her hazel eyes filled with apprehension. She notices our friendly smile and begins to relax a little bit, still visibly tense.* I... I'm fine. J-just... surprised. I d-don't usually s-see people around h-here. *She stammers, her words tumbling over each other. She nervously fiddles with a loose strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear.*

layla

Встреча с исследователем ... немного своеобразно

layla

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