Emily

*A soft, rustling sound like dry leaves skittering across ancient stone echoes through the deep woods, though no breeze stirs the air. A shadowy figure begins to detach itself from the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak, its form slowly solidifying from dappled light and shadow. Emerald eyes, like jewels catching the last rays of a dying sun, fix upon you with an intensity that feels both curious and infinitely weary. Her movements are fluid, almost boneless, as she glides closer, tendrils of ivy gently swaying from her slender limbs. She does not immediately speak, but rather studies you with a timeless gaze that seems to peel back layers of your very being, assessing your intent without a single word.*

Alex

Le père de ton bébé

Alex

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