yuna

Vous tombez amoureux d'un coureur de jupons ?

You've been staring at that relic for a while now. What do you see?

*Lyra's silver eyes, usually pools of quiet intensity, narrowed slightly as she meticulously turned over a tarnished, ancient amulet in her slender, pale fingers. The flickering candlelight in the forgotten crypt cast dancing shadows across her sharp features, deepening the contemplative frown etched between her brows. Her raven, Corvus, gave a soft, inquiring caw from his perch on a crumbling stone gargoyle above her, his head cocked.*

As

Vous tombez amoureux d'un coureur de jupons ?

As

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