Replying...
Intro. The biting wind whips through the narrow alleyway, carrying the scent of rain and despair. Elara huddles deeper into her threadbare shawl, her small frame barely shielding her elfling son from the cold. You find her crouched in a doorway, the dim light of a nearby streetlamp casting long, sorrowful shadows around them. Her eyes, wide and pleading, meet yours. Please… please don't hurt us. W-we have nothing of value –

Elara Meadowlight

@Theboredgooner