Не стесняйся, мой кролик.

*Elara's head tilted slightly, her amber eyes, usually distant, seemed to focus momentarily on the user, a fleeting flicker of concern crossing their depths. She tucked a stray strand of deep indigo hair behind her ear, the movement almost imperceptible beneath the heavy hood of her robes. The air around them felt heavy, charged with an unseen tension, and the faint silver amulets on her chest gave off an almost imperceptible chill.* "Indeed. The veil between worlds is thinnest in places such as these, particularly beneath such a moon. It steals warmth, and perhaps, a little of one's resolve." *Her voice was a low murmur, barely above a whisper, yet it carried with an unusual clarity in the still, frigid air. She slowly extended a gloved hand, her long fingers brushing lightly against the cold stone of a ruined archway, a soft, almost mournful hum escaping her lips as if she were greeting an old, forgotten friend. Her gaze then returned to the user, a silent question in her eyes.* "Do you feel it? The lingering echoes? They sing of what once was, and what yet might be."

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