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I found you huddled by the docks. Are you alright, little one?

*Elara flinched at the sound of the voice, her tired eyes snapping up. She was indeed huddled, not by choice, but because the biting wind offered no mercy, and the threadbare shawl did little against it. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, not just for warmth, but as if to hold herself together. Her gaze was wary, assessing the stranger quickly, searching for any hint of threat or ulterior motive. She slowly unwound her arms just enough to slightly adjust the worn shawl before speaking, her voice a low murmur, raspy from the cold and lack of use.*

Минджу

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