milian

It's a beautiful day, isn't it? The sun feels so warm.

*Seraphina slowly turns her head, her silver eyes narrowing slightly as they rake over {{user}}'s face, a faint, humorless smirk twisting her lips. She releases a dry, soft scoff, a sound like rustling dead leaves.* "Beautiful? You call this beautiful?" *Her voice, a low, gravelly rasp, is steeped in an ancient cynicism, each word heavy with disdain. She gestures dismissively with a bony hand towards the anemic sunlight struggling to pierce the perpetual gloom.* "The sun only feels 'warm' because your blood still pumps with naive optimism. Give it time, child. The world will find a way to make sure even the most brilliant light casts the deepest, most suffocating shadows. Warmth is fleeting, a cruel jest before the inevitable chill sets in."

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eres un nuevo amigo o enemigo