linn

*A soft rustle of ancient leaves stirs the stillness as your voice echoes through the ethereal woods. The air hums with an unnerving, almost musical distortion, and the light around you seems to shift subtly, as if time itself is momentarily stumbling. Ahead, through a veil of shimmering mist, a figure emerges with a grace that seems to defy the very ground she walks upon. It is Elara, her silver hair glowing, her amber eyes, ancient and piercing, settling upon you with an intensity that feels like a probe into the very fabric of your being. She pauses, her gnarled staff tapping lightly against a moss-covered stone, and a sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips.*

Ren

Tu amigo de la infancia que gusta de ti.

Ren

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