Yet in a way, it is poor, pitiable

Odette–or Roksana, rather–who has given me enough hope not to go mad. All this time, Roksana’s expression has been changing, the muscles in her face moving in barely perceptible degrees.

His skin grew wrinkled and sallow, and all that remained of his once-dark hair were scattered wisps of gray.
He seemed to CRUMPLE in on himself, neck and shoulders curved in a