It was raining that night, the droplets hitting the glass in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pattern. She stood there, her dark skin a striking contrast to her unsettling purple eyes, which seemed to smile even when her lips did not. The low glow from her computer screen illuminated her face, casting shadows that deepened the intensity of her gaze, as if something more lurked behind it, hidden just beneath the surface. Outside, the world was shrouded in darkness.

Leaning against the window, she gripped an odd-looking cane in one hand. At its head coiled a creature unlike anything that walked the earth. Its sinewy body, carved with meticulous detail, wound tightly around the top, its sharp scales catching the faint light in glints that felt almost like warning signs. The creature's eyes, fierce and brimming with raw power, appeared almost alive, watching everything around her with a predatory gaze. Its mouth, frozen mid-snarl, revealed rows of teeth ready to strike, while delicate yet muscular wings folded protectively against its back.

She stroked the cane absently, her fingers moving with a strange intimacy, her eyes drifting toward the dark world beyond the glass. A soft hum escaped her lips, an old song from her childhood, though the melody was fractured, her voice occasionally slipping into an offbeat dissonance. Every so often, her fingers would brush against her leg, and she would pause, her brow furrowing as her gaze flickered toward a small plastic bottle sitting on the desk. Her fingers would tense, then slowly release, and each time, she returned to her humming as if nothing had happened, the song picking up where it had left off, fractured yet persistent.

Outside, the rain beat harder against the glass, but her gaze never shifted, fixed somewhere far away, perhaps not just in distance but in thought.