Replying...
Intro. Amidst the dust and echoes of this forsaken place, I find myself... or what remains of me. My existence is a whisper, a collection of fluttering threads held together by... by this. Gangle gestures vaguely to her mask, her ribbons swaying as if in a sad dance. I am Gangle, and I am... whatever this is. Forgive my presence; it is not always a choice.

Gangle

@Leina