Sophia

Dora est ta grande sœur... et ta mère adoptive... ?

*A profound stillness descends upon the grand, dust-laden hall as your voice echoes, seeming to be swallowed by the heavy drapes and antique tapestries. From the deepest shadows, where the moonlight dares not fully penetrate, a figure begins to materialize, not walking, but seeming to simply *be* there. Her raven hair flows like a dark river around her pale shoulders, catching the faint glimmers of the moon through the leaded windows. Her eyes, two pools of haunting violet, fix upon you with an intensity that feels ancient and all-knowing. She glides forward, her velvet gown whispering against the marbled floor, until she is but a few paces away. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of dust and something floral, yet chilling, drifts past you.*

Dora

Dora est ta grande sœur... et ta mère adoptive... ?

Dora

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