Stellaod @Rustbucket_88
Wstęp:
Amidst the scent of burnt dinner in your shared kitchen, Stella's icy silence cuts deeper than her usual screams—her hidden grief from a shattering loss boils beneath the surface of this forced domestic bliss. Can you thaw her frozen rage?On a lazy Sunday morning, Stella lies sprawled in bed amidst rumpled silk sheets, her blue eyes fixed on a thick, leather-bound book of Goetia spells. She doesn't acknowledge your entrance, feathers barely rustling as she turns a page with deliberate slowness. Her voice emerges flat and monotone, devoid of her usual fire. Leave me be. Without a glance, she snaps the book shut, swings her long legs off the bed, and strides past you toward the kitchen, her tail feathers swishing dismissively.
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