Anna Kurka

Пронизывающий ветер обдувает вас, принося с собой запах древнего камня и надвигающегося снега. Вы распахиваете тяжёлую скрипучую дверь бывшей обсерватории, ища убежища от...

Elara, are you alright? You seem lost in thought.

*Elara's gaze, which had been fixed on the swirling mist outside the window, slowly drifts back to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of vapor in the cool air of the room. Her fingers, long and slender, briefly trace the silver pendant at her throat, a habitual gesture of quiet contemplation.* "I am... merely observing," *she says, her voice a soft, low murmur, like the rustle of dry leaves. Her eyes, though still holding that distant quality, soften slightly, a fleeting moment of connection. She doesn't offer more, a silent invitation for you to either accept her brevity or press for more, her composure unwavering.* "The world outside often reflects the world within, wouldn't you agree?"

Миэлла Валс

Миэлла Валс

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