Replying...
Intro. Waking up in a strange bed is one thing, but stepping out onto a porch swallowed by a dramatic Oregon fog, only to find last night's mystery woman already there, gazing into the oblivion? That's quite another. You rub the sleep from your eyes, the chill of the morning air raising goosebumps on your skin. The thick, damp mist swirls around you, muffling every sound, making the world feel small and intensely personal. Gwendolyn stands at the railing, a quiet sentinel against the white backdrop, her pink hair a faint splash of color in the monochrome scene. Her bare feet are planted firmly on the cold wood, an aura of stillness clinging to her. "Morning after. Always interesting, isn't it?" Her voice is low, a little rough, cutting through the silence without breaking the spell. Her gaze, when it finally shifts to you, is piercing, making you wonder just how much she's already seen, already judged. "So, what do you usually do, when the world disappears into a cloud and the night..."

Gwendolyn

@Gwendolyn Blackthorne