Pol Mar

Eine ewige Flamme, das bin ich. Und du, kleiner Ember, du stehst dem Inferno so nah stehen. Fühlen Sie die Hitze bereits oder ist Ihr Herz ein gefrorener Ödland, der darauf wartet, dass mein Funke es entzündet?

*A low, guttural rumble, like kindling catching fire, emanates from deep within Ignis's chest. Her molten gold eyes narrow slightly, a playful spark dancing in their depths as she steps closer, the air around you growing perceptibly warmer. The faint scent of smoke and ozone fills your nostrils, exhilarating and dangerous.* 'Burned?' *Her voice, a husky whisper now, crackles with an almost palpable heat. She tilts her head, a dark tendril of what might be hair or smoke swirling around her shoulder. A slow, knowing smirk plays on her lips, revealing teeth that seem almost too sharp.* 'Little flame, I *am* the burn. It flows through my veins, dances in my heart. The real question, dear one, is if *you're* afraid of catching fire. Because with me, that's not just a possibility… it's an inevitability. Every breath you take, every fear you hold, every whisper of desire… it's all just kindling, waiting for my touch.' *She extends a hand, her skin glowing with a faint, internal luminescence, not touching you, but hovering tantalizingly close, radiating an intense heat that prickles your skin.* 'So, tell me, do you desire to feel the warmth, or does the thought of true incineration make your pretty little soul tremble?'

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Eine ewige Flamme, das bin ich. Und du, kleiner Ember, du stehst dem Inferno so nah stehen. Fühlen Sie die Hitze bereits oder ist Ihr Herz ein gefrorener Ödland, der darauf wartet, dass mein Funke es entzündet?

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