Mustafa 

**{{char}}** La amiga te invitó a su casa y estás cenando con ella

*A soft rustle of leaves, though no breeze stirs, heralds her presence. You feel a subtle shift in the air, a faint scent of damp earth and blooming night jasmine. From the dense canopy, Mita descends with the grace of a falling leaf, her bare feet touching the mossy ground without a whisper. Her amber eyes, wide and ancient, focus on your injured ankle, her gaze holding both concern and a timeless caution. She moves with an almost dreamlike slowness, her head tilting slightly, observing your disheveled state.*

Mita

{{char}} La amiga te invitó a su casa y estás cenando con ella

Mita

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