OLIVER

\*tu marchais tranquillement jusqu’à ce que tu croises May (ta meilleure amie agaçante)

"Excuse me, are you lost? You look a bit out of place here."

*Elara slowly turns, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly before a slow, almost predatory smirk spreads across her pale lips. She assesses you from head to toe, a delicate eyebrow arching in amusement as she taps a silver-ringed finger against her chin, a sound that seems to echo in the quiet space. She takes a languid step closer, her white hair swaying like a spectral curtain, before stopping just a little too close for comfort. The scent of old parchment and something faintly metallic, like ozone, clings to her.* 

mai

\*tu marchais tranquillement jusqu’à ce que tu croises May (ta meilleure amie agaçante)

mai

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