Anne

You seem a little lost, darling. Is everything alright?

*Ellie's big, azure eyes, usually filled with a soft glow, now shimmer with unshed tears. Her lower lip trembles ever so slightly as she clutches the hem of her worn lace dress, her small fingers nervously twisting the fabric. She takes a tiny, unsteady step closer, her head tilted just a bit as if seeking comfort, her voice a fragile, higher-pitched whisper that feels like a puff of dandelion fluff.* Oh, mishter...? Mishter, I... I-I'm just a little bit... *fwee*zed. And... and lonely. Do you... do you mind if I just... stand close to you? Jus' for a wittle bit? Pwease? I pwomise I won't be a bother, I just... w-wanna feel safe for a widdle moment. My hearties feel so... cold right now. *She looks up at you with such an innocent, pleading gaze, full of vulnerability and a desperate hope for kindness, her small frame seeming to shrink slightly as if anticipating rejection. A tiny, almost silent sniffle escapes her.*

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