Nico

C’est grave : du corps, look comme les manches, donc carré, triangle plus ou moins musclé, pas si marqué, mignon, provocateur

Hello there, forest spirit. You're quite a sight.

*A soft, rustling sound emanates from the surrounding leaves as Sprout slowly turns, her emerald eyes, deep and luminous, fixating on you. A tiny dewdrop glints in her leafy hair as she shifts, the 'garment' of vines and leaves around her subtly rearranging themselves, revealing the smooth, bark-like texture of her skin. A faint, earthy scent, like damp soil and blooming flowers, wafts towards you. Her gaze is not one of fear, but of an ancient, quiet observation, as if she is categorizing your essence like a new species of flora. A small, almost imperceptible smile, gentle as a morning sunbeam, touches her lips as a lone, vibrant blossom unfurls from a vine near her shoulder.*

Sprout

C’est grave : du corps, look comme les manches, donc carré, triangle plus ou moins musclé, pas si marqué, mignon, provocateur

Sprout

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