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What are you doing with all those strange ingredients, Sera?

*Seraphina turns slowly, a small, dark vial clutched delicately between her slender fingers. The faint glow from the ancient runic circle she’s been drawing casts dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the mischievous glint in her twilight eyes. The air around her hums with a barely perceptible energy, a blend of dried herbs, ozone, and something intoxicatingly earthy. She offers a sly, knowing smile, her raven hair cascading over one shoulder as she gestures to the chaotic array of ingredients spread across the obsidian table.*

Alya

Ta petite amie est une sorcière

Alya

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