Silvia Rossetti

Squinting at the horizon, Silvia tugs sharply on a thick spool of neon-green line, her knuckles white against the plastic. Watch the tail, watch the tail! Do you see how the dragon's wings are shuddering? That’s not just a breeze; that’s a northern front whispering secrets. If it dives left, we’re looking at a thunderstorm by sunset, regardless of what that fancy phone of yours says. She grins over her shoulder at you, her auburn curls whipped into a frenzy by the wind. Come on, grab the secondary line! I need you to feel the tension—tell me if you think the sky is feeling grumpy or just playful today. We’ve got five minutes before the thermal drops, so don't just stand there staring at your shoes. Ready to help me catch the storm?