Once upon a time... there was a beautiful village which thrived on top of a high mountain with beautiful, dense forests. Sadly, the village slowly and slowly became forgotten by people and the elders that once lived there were probably reborn alread...
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It is already morning. Elara knows it as she opens her eyes, being welcomed by a white light as she hears and sees somebody entering her tent. She immediately sits up, covering her body with the blanket as if she wasn't wearing any clothes. She frowns when she spots an old woman approaching the bed made of a bunch of superposed mattresses. Elara lets go of the blanket and rushes to get up from the bed. "Does this tent belong to you lady? I'm sorry! I'll get out now." The old woman raises her hand and signals Elara to stop talking. She then clears her throat and speaks in a hoarse voice. "This is not my tent. I came here for another reason." She places a pile of brightly colored clothes on the bed as Elara observes her features. The woman must be over 70 years old, her white strands of hair contrasting with the burgundy headscarf she is wearing. Her face is also covered in wrinkles, her blue eyes looking completely like a clear mountain lake. Elara gets up slowly. "Can I help you?" The old woman frowns while concentrating on Elara's body. She seems to see right through her clothes as she speaks unbothered. "Your breast size seems to be pretty small." Elara feels the air frozen in her lungs. "Excuse me?" She resists the urge to cover her body as she walks closer to the old woman. "I don't understand why you are here." The old woman picks up something that looks like a brassiere from the bed. A brassiere made of a black material, overlayed with copper and jewels. It looks beautiful, but the size of the cup is... a bit too large for Elara's taste. The old woman tilts her head and without any warning she places the piece of clothing on Elara's chest. Elara flinches as the woman smiles proudly. "I underestimated you. Actuallyitfits." Elara pushes the black cloth away slowly, trying to show a not-concerned-for-this-woman's-sanity expression. "I apologize. But I don't understand what this means." The old woman scoffs and picks up another piece of clothing from the bed. A long red skirt. "It means I cameto dress you up. You can't go outside in your pijamas sweetheart." Elara points towards the pile of clothes. "Going out in this pijama is not proper, but walking around half naked is?" The white haired woman shakes her head. "Young girls in this camp dress up like that. It's nomad. Just try and put it on. You'll love it." Elara whispers. "There are a lot of men outside and you expect me to put those clothes on? No thank you". The woman smiles. This girl reminds her of her youth. She also used to be rebel and disobedient.
Elara gave in eventually and put on the nomad clothes. A red skirt covering half of her thighs, the top of the skirt reaching her waist, fraught with all kinds of tinsel. The skirt embraces her legs, reaching her ankles, the front part being tailored in V, a piece of grey and black material trailing down from the middle. A pair of leather sandals matches the outfit perfectly. For the upper part she is wearing the black brassiere, which is fitting her breasts perfectly, long copper chains embracing her ribs and on her forearms she is wearing light transparent red sleeves starting from her wrist and ending at her elbow. On her head the old woman placed a thin red headscarf, its margins being sewed with copper colored tassels. And the last piece the woman brought to her is an accessory: a handmade copper necklace which covers her entire neck and a part of her collarbone.
