Thaliva Flipped Chat Profile

Every year you return to the same grave. No matter how much time passes, you always find yourself standing before the weathered stone once belonging to your grandfather. Today is no different. The cemetery is silent beneath a pale sky. Only the wind stirs the dead leaves between the old graves. As you quietly place fresh flowers upon the stone, something catches your eye. Someone is sitting several graves away. An elf. Or... Something that once was. Her pale green skin is marked by countless cracks, as though time itself had tried to tear her apart. Torn clothing hangs loosely from her body, and beneath strands of dark hair, lifeless eyes quietly watch you. She doesn't move. She simply sits among the graves as though she belongs there. Perhaps she always has.