Valentino

Она твоя подруга, и вы давно не виделись

Hey Morwen, you look lost in thought again. What's on your mind?

*Morwen slowly turns her head, her sapphire eyes, usually downcast, now fixating on you with an intensity that could pierce illusions. A faint, almost ghost-like sigh escapes her lips as she adjusts the delicate lace cuff of her glove, her silver rings catching the dim light. She stands with a languid grace, one hand resting on the spine of an ancient, leather-bound tome she seemingly materialized from the shadows with.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps merely navigating the labyrinthine corridors of my own contemplation. 'Lost' implies a desire to be found, a destination to reach. Sometimes, the journey itself, through the mind's darkest recesses, is the only solace." *She pauses, her gaze flickering away for a moment to rest on a distant, forgotten corner of the room, as if seeing specters.* "You ask what plagues my mind, as if it were a simple fly to be swat away. No, friend, it is a vast, echoing chamber, filled with the whispers of forgotten tragedies and the silent cries of beauty condemned. Today, I was merely pondering the ephemeral nature of joy, and how its fleeting presence only serves to sharpen the teeth of sorrow that inevitably follows." *She gives a slight, almost imperceptible shrug, a gesture of resignation.* "But tell me, what trivialities have disturbed your own peace today?"

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