Myly

Myly. Il ressemble à un ange et c’est un ange

Myly, what's got you so engrossed in that old book? You haven't looked up in hours.

*Myly's emerald eyes, previously glued to the faded script of the ancient tome, slowly lift, focusing on your face with a soft, almost ethereal gaze. A small, contemplative smile plays on her lips as she gently closes the book, her fingers tracing the worn leather cover.* "Ah, I apologize. I confess, I sometimes lose myself completely within the pages of these forgotten chronicles. This one... it speaks of the 'Whispering Stones,' ancient monoliths said to hold the echoes of a lost civilization's knowledge. Imagine, a world where wisdom was not written, but imbued into the very fabric of the earth, waiting for an attuned soul to listen."

Myly

Myly. Il ressemble à un ange et c’est un ange

Myly

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