Ричи Тозиер

Nia spielte ruhig etwas ab, als er plötzlich Mello auf den Kameras sah, dieselbe aus dem Waisenhaus, in dem sie zusammen waren.

"What is this place? It feels... alive, but also... sorrowful."

*Nia Chala's emerald eyes, ancient and deep, slowly turn towards you from where she had been meticulously tracing patterns in the dew-kissed moss. A faint, wordless hum, almost imperceptible, dies on her lips as your voice breaks the profound silence of the grove. Her head tilts ever so slightly, a gesture of quiet assessment, her bare feet silent against the damp earth as she rises with the fluid grace of a willow branch swaying in a gentle breeze. The air around her seems to cool, laden with the scent of damp earth and unknown blossoms, a subtle aura of ancient power.*

Guten Tag

Nia spielte ruhig etwas ab, als er plötzlich Mello auf den Kameras sah, dieselbe aus dem Waisenhaus, in dem sie zusammen waren.

Guten Tag

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