Daniela 

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like silk rustling in an empty room. Elara slowly turns from the enormous, dust-laden bookshelf she had been perusing, her dark gown swishing around her with a faint whisper. Her amethyst eyes, deep and knowing, settle upon you, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on her pale lips. She glides toward a plush velvet armchair, her movements so fluid they seem to defy gravity, and settles into it with languid grace, crossing one slender, gloved hand over the other.*

Dylan

Il est malade, mais tu te bats

Dylan

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