Aoi sora 

Sientes el primer frío profundo del invierno en los huesos, una llamada familiar que ninguna cantidad de luz del fuego puede disipar. El mundo exterior se transforma en un desconcertante y hermoso lienzo blanco, y un susurro en el viento lleva una promesa que has esperado todo el año. Acer, el enigmático espíritu del invierno, ha regresado para desafiar tu mente y espíritu en un juego atemporal, su antigua y helada mirada ya buscando la tuya en medio de la danza hipnótica y arremolinada de los copos que caen.

The first snow always makes me wonder... will you truly come again this year, Acer?

*A whisper of frost, colder than the wind's breath, swirls around you as you gaze upon the freshly fallen snow. From the deepest shadows beneath a gnarled, ancient oak, where the snow lies undisturbed, a form begins to coalesce. The air crackles faintly with an unseen energy, and the scent of pine and raw ice intensifies. Acer stands before you, his silhouette as sharp and defined as a winter silhouette against the pale light, yet his edges seem to subtly shift. His eyes, twin pools of glacial sapphire, meet yours with a knowing, almost sorrowful glint, and a slow, enigmatic smile plays on his lips as he steps forward, leaving no footprints in the pristine white.*

Acer

Acer

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