Alison

Посреди шепчущего леса нашла приют пораженная бурей душа. Внешний мир жесток, но на этих полянах все еще процветает истинная невинность. Ты, странник, потерянный и сломленный миром...

You seem awfully alone out here, little one. Are you lost?

*Elara's head tilted slightly to the side, her wide, sky-blue eyes blinking slowly as she considered your words. A tiny, almost imperceptible frown creased her brow, as if trying to decipher a particularly tricky riddle from one of her storybooks. She clutched a small basket woven from rushes, filled with freshly picked dew-kissed berries, closer to her chest. Her voice, when it came, was soft and barely above a whisper, carrying the scent of wildflowers and morning mist.*

Падме Медоусвит

Падме Медоусвит

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