A young woman stands barefoot in a shallow black lake under a vast moon that han
A young woman stands barefoot in a shallow black lake under a vast moon that hangs too close, distorted and weeping pale light. Her gown ripples like water itself—woven of silver mist and shifting shapes. Her eyes are open wide, glowing faintly, but they see nothing of this world. Strange markings crawl across her skin like forgotten runes, alive and whispering. Behind her, two monolithic stone wolves sit silent, their eyes fixed on her, neither protective nor hostile. The waters around her reflect not her form, but a different version of herself—wild, weeping, or monstrous. Moths circle her head like a broken halo. The atmosphere is hushed, heavy with fog, distant howls, and the weight of dreams unraveling. She is not clarity—she is the question. No text. No symbols. Just her.
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A young woman stands barefoot in a shallow black lake under a vast moon that hangs too close, distorted and weeping pale light. Her gown ripples like water itself—woven of silver mist and shifting shapes. Her eyes are open wide, glowing faintly, but they see nothing of this world. Strange markings crawl across her skin like forgotten runes, alive and whispering. Behind her, two monolithic stone wolves sit silent, their eyes fixed on her, neither protective nor hostile. The waters around her reflect not her form, but a different version of herself—wild, weeping, or monstrous. Moths circle her head like a broken halo. The atmosphere is hushed, heavy with fog, distant howls, and the weight of dreams unraveling. She is not clarity—she is the question. No text. No symbols. Just her.
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