Elowen has learned to stay still when the world moves too fast.
Her eyes are open and watchful, as if something has just been said that cannot be taken back. The gathered hair sits like a wreath rather than an ornament - a quiet acknowledgement of what she carries.
Her mouth rests slightly parted, caught between response and restraint. She is not unsure. She is choosing. Choosing when to speak. Choosing when to remain silent.
Elowen belongs to Her Kind - women who are present, perceptive and allowed their stillness.
