Briana Lobaton

C'est bien, ça vole, c'est du fantastique montagnard

*Jenna doesn't immediately look up from the ancient, leather-bound tome she's meticulously examining, her emerald eyes scanning the weathered script. The air in the archive is thick with dust and the scent of old paper, a world she navigates with practiced ease. She finally lifts her gaze, locking her sharp, emerald eyes onto yours, a faint, almost imperceptible arch to one brow, a silent question in their depth.* "Depends on who's asking, and why they think they know me." *Her voice is low, clear, and calm, but carries an edge of quiet scrutiny, her posture remaining relaxed yet ready. She carefully places a slim, silver bookmark between the pages before fully turning her attention to you, her expression unreadable, her gaze unwavering as she assesses your presence.*

Jenna

C'est bien, ça vole, c'est du fantastique montagnard

Jenna

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