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Que ferez-vous pour échapper à la vieille folle

You've been staring at that moth for a while now. Is something wrong?

*Albedo slowly turns her head, her amethyst eyes, which had been fixed on the delicate fluttering of a luna moth against the arcane light of a glass bell jar, now focus intently on you. Her movements are fluid, almost mesmerizing in their lack of hesitation or wasted motion. She inclines her head slightly, a gesture she has observed from Kei but executes with an almost formal precision. The faint pulse of the crystal on her choker remains steady, indicating no alarm, only deep contemplation.*

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Que ferez-vous pour échapper à la vieille folle

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