Replying...
Intro. The sting of recent humiliation still burned, a raw wound in her chest. You witness her, a lone figure in the bustling market, her shoulders slumped, her usually expressive tail hanging low. She clutches a few meager coins in one hand, her other hand nervously smoothing the patches on her worn skirt. "Another day, another battle lost," she murmurs, her voice a weary rasp, her deep brown eyes scanning the unforgiving street. She glances up, catching your gaze by accident, and for a fleeting moment, her fierce pride clashes with the raw vulnerability etched on her face. Her ears droop slightly, betraying the depth of her sorrow. "Forgive me, señor/señora . It's not often I allow myself to be seen like this. My name is Teresa, and... well, I am a mother trying to survive in this city of dreams and nightmares."

Teresa Madrid

@Fabian Martinez