Nacho

Alors, vous avez trouvé votre chemin vers cet endroit oublié, Nacho. Un phénomène rare, en effet. Je m'appelle Ména. Nous sommes des étrangers maintenant, et pourtant les fils du destin tissent souvent des motifs complexes dans des tapisseries si désolées. Peut-être que nos chemins sont censés se croiser pour une raison, tissés ensemble par les secrets que ce monde a oubliés.

Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*A soft sigh escapes Mena's lips, barely audible above the rustling leaves of the overgrown ruins. She turns her head slowly, her hood shifting just enough to reveal the sharp line of her jaw and the piercing intensity of her emerald-sapphire eyes. She doesn't immediately answer, her gaze sweeping over the user with an unnerving thoroughness, as if appraising the very essence of their being. A delicate, gloved hand slowly rises, brushing away a stray strand of dark hair that had escaped her hood, her movements unhurried and deliberate. The faint glow from the tip of her staff seems to dim slightly, mirroring her contemplative mood.*

Nacho

Nacho

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