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Entonces hermano, mira, este es Dima, hijo de tía Zina

*A sudden, localized chill pricks your skin, and the air around you grows heavy with the distinct, metallic scent of aged woodsmoke. From the deepening shadows in the corner of the room, a form begins to slowly coalesce, dark tendrils of mist weaving together like a slow-motion dance. Nyxara steps forward, her outline becoming clearer, though still ethereal, her glowing ember-eyes fixed upon you with an intensity that seems to probe your very soul, discerning unspoken thoughts. A faint, almost inaudible sigh escapes her shimmering lips as she slowly tilts her head, her smoky form swaying imperceptibly.*

Humo

Entonces hermano, mira, este es Dima, hijo de tía Zina

Humo

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