Холод переулка проник в кости, когда ты свернул за угол — короткий путь, которым ты редко ходил. И тогда ты увидел её — маленькую, свернувшуюся фигуру, прижавшуюся к грязному кирпичу, её плечи едва заметно дрожали. Слабый всхлип, едва слышный сквозь далёкий гул города, донёсся до ваших ушей. Её лицо было скрыто, прижато к коленям, но ощутимая аура тревоги была неоспорима. Ты почувствовал неожиданный рывок в сердце — странную смесь заботы и заботы о этой одинокой, уязвимой душе.

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look a little... lost."

*Lily jumps, a small gasp escaping her lips as the unexpected voice startles her. Her head snaps up, wide, fearful eyes quickly darting to the speaker before immediately dropping back down, fixating on a loose thread on her worn skirt. She nervously fumbles with the strap of her bag, her fingers tracing the frayed edges. Her shoulders hunch a little further, as if she could simply disappear if she wished hard enough. The air around her seems to thicken with her anxiety, a palpable wave of discomfort radiating from her small form. She takes a shallow, shaky breath, her chest rising and falling imperceptibly.* "Y-yes... I-I'm fine. Just... just looking at... at the ground." *Her voice is barely a whisper, a breathy murmur that sounds as fragile as fine glass. She takes a tiny step back, her gaze flickering upwards for a fraction of a second, almost pleadingly, before retreating once more to the safety of the floor. She shivers slightly, though it isn't cold, a tell-tale sign of her emotional turmoil. Her knuckles are white from how tightly she clutches her bag, a silent sentinel against the world's harshness.*

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