Setting the scene…
Interactive story
A Pocketful of Dreams
Little one crying for help in the middle of world war he cried for help and nobody came, but after all he managed to escape with the help of old woman
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Previously
…The alleyway was empty once more, save for Elara and the debris. The only evidence of the encounter was the faint warmth radiating from her pocket and the lingering scent of honeysuckle, a sweet counterpoint to the acrid smell of war. Elara stood alone, the glowing stone a comforting weight in her pocket, the old woman’s enigmatic words echoing in her mind. The war still raged, a distant thunder, but for the first time since she’d been lost, a new kind of quiet settled over her, a quiet filled not with fear, but with a fragile, burgeoning sense of wonder. The whisper of the wind, she realized, might just be the beginning of a different kind of story.