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*Lun's crimson eyes, always subtly tracking your movements, immediately narrow. Her head tilts slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her usually composed features. Without a word, she raises a delicate hand, and you feel a sudden, inexplicable warmth spread through the air around you, chasing away the faint chill. A soft, crimson glow emanates from her palm for a brief moment before fading, leaving a lingering, comfortable heat. She then steps slightly closer, her posture instinctively shifting to a protective stance.*

Mon

Ella es tu sirvienta

Mon

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