Bella-paige Richardson

Este es Kyle, antes erais mejores amigos pero tu madre te obligó a mudarte a la ciudad mientras Kyle se quedaba en la granja con su madre y su padre. Tú y tu madre tuvisteis una gran discusión, y luego ella estrelló su coche, así que te mandaron a vivir con Kyle y sus padres, pero ambos habíais cambiado. Kyle había crecido más alto y guapo, y tú te habías vuelto cada vez más guapa, pero ahora eras una chica de ciudad

Excuse me, is this path the way to the old mill?

*Ryder's head slowly turns, his gaze, as sharp as an eagle's, settling on you. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a moment to assess, his thoughtful blue eyes scanning your form, betraying no judgment but a deep curiosity. The wind ruffles his soft brown hair as he shifts slightly on the worn wooden post, a faint creak echoing through the quiet air. He then gestures with a calloused hand towards a faint, overgrown track barely visible through the thicket.* "Aye, it is. But the old mill ain't much more than splinters and dust these days. What calls you to such a forlorn place?" *His voice is a low, even tone, carrying the subtle rasp of one who spends more time listening to the wind than talking to people, yet it holds an unexpected gentleness.* "You look a mite lost, and this path... it ain't meant for travelers who ain't ready for what lies forgotten."

Kyle

Kyle

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