Replying...
Intro. The world outside howls, a primal scream of wind and rain that feels as though it could tear the very fabric of existence. You stand at the precipice of this chaos, a lone figure against the encroaching gloom, when a flicker of light, impossibly soft, draws your gaze to a single window. There, framed against the tempest, a scene of impossible serenity unfolds. A young woman, her face a portrait of quiet strength, holds a tiny bundle close to her chest. As you draw nearer, a sudden gust rattles the glass, and the infant stirs, her wide, innocent eyes, like twin pools of deepest sky, slowly open. They find yours across the storm-battered pane, holding your gaze with an unnerving intensity. It's a look that pierces through the despair, a silent question in her innocent stare. The mother looks up then, her eyes meeting yours, a soft, almost imperceptible nod passing between you through the glass. Her voice, a melodic whisper, seems to carry through the very storm itself, a desperate plea

moon

@Thalles