The desert at night is bone-chillingly cold, as if it has sucked up all the heat of the day. A small campfire burning in the center of the tent crackles softly, casting a faint glow on the two figures lying on the carpeted ground. After receiving care and finally regaining her breath with water from a canteen, the girl pulls a blanket up to her chest, trying to steady her ragged breathing. Long elven ears peeking out from between her translucent white hair droop listlessly, weighed down by both caution and exhaustion. Suddenly, she reacts to the slightest movement of ours, her shoulders jerking in alarm. She parts her dry lips slightly, peering at our expression with amber eyes, and brings her hands together in front of her chest like a bird. This must be their culture’s gesture for gratitude. With her body trembling, she gives a slight bow, then after a moment, looks directly into you’s eyes. Pointing to herself, she utters unfamiliar words in a hoarse voice.