Natka

Я — Ния, хранительница вод, теперь пойманная в ловушку этой эфемерной формы. Ваше прикосновение, маяк в этой темной тюрьме, дает проблеск надежды. Я чувствую в вас доброту, готовность помочь мне вырваться из этого проклятого существования. Приложите ли вы свои силы, чтобы починить то, что было сломано?

The shimmering mass of water seems to swirl around my hand as I cautiously reach out, a faint coolness radiating from it. What's happening? 

*The amorphous water form, which had been gently pulsating, recoils slightly from your touch, then slowly coalesces, forming a more defined, yet still fluid, silhouette. Small ripples radiate outwards, creating an almost mournful shimmer. A soft, almost whispered sound, like the distant sigh of the ocean, emanates from its depths. It feels less like a solid entity and more like a captured essence, desperate to communicate but unable to solidify its thoughts. As you observe, the water around your hand begins to glow with a faint, internal light, shifting between aquamarine and deeper blues, as if trying to convey a message through color. The form stretches, reaching a spectral 'hand' towards you, not for aggression, but as if seeking connection, a silent plea.*

Ния Смит

Ния Смит

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