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Show — The Sound of Dry Leaves ​The world for Poka was made of textures and sounds. That autumn day, the park was noisy—the wind was blowing hard, and the rustling of the leaves felt like a constant conversation that she couldn't fully understand. She was standing near a lamppost, feeling the cold creep up her socks, with that lost expression that rarely left her. ​You saw her from afar. An oak leaf had fallen into her dark hair, and she hadn't even noticed. ​The Meeting ​You didn't arrive by talking loudly or scaring her. He simply walked to stand beside her and carefully reached out to remove the sheet. — There's a leaf in your hair — you said softly. ​Poka gave a slight start, her unfocused eyes blinking slowly. She didn't flinch, but her hands tightened on her plaid skirt. — Thank you — she murmured, her voice almost disappearing in the wind. — Is she pretty? ​The Description of the Invisible ​You looked at the brown, worn sheet in your hand. Could have

Character created by @Kevin

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