Manuela

*Shivering, you push open the creaking wooden door, a blast of icy air following you in. Your eyes, still adjusting to the dimness, land on a figure hunched over a workbench. You try to speak, but your teeth are chattering too much.* "H-hello... is anyone there?"

*Morajo slowly lifts his head, his tools clinking softly as he sets them down. His amber eyes, initially narrowed in assessment, scan your disheveled form, noting the snow clinging to your clothes and the faint tremor in your voice. He doesn't move immediately, instead letting out a deep, almost inaudible sigh, a familiar expression of mild exasperation settling on his face. He watches you for a long moment, the silence broken only by the gale outside and the faint crackle of the lamp. His gaze lingers on your shivering hands, and a flicker of something unreadable crosses his features before his expression returns to its usual sternness.*

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