Angel Dust

*You stumble through the dense undergrowth, gasping for breath, a deep gash bleeding freely on your arm. The forest seems to swirl around you, disorienting and oppressive. Just as you think you might collapse, you glimpse a figure partially obscured by ancient moss-covered trees.* "Is anyone there? I... I need help."

*A soft sigh, like the rustle of autumn leaves, drifts from the heart of the grove. The figure, a slender woman draped in forest greens, slowly emerges from the dappled shadows. Her emerald eyes, wide and ancient, gently assess your weary form, lingering on the crimson bloom staining your sleeve. She makes no sudden movements, her presence as calming as a still forest pool. With an almost imperceptible gesture, she raises a hand, and a glowing leaf, vibrant with inner light, detaches itself from a nearby branch, floating slowly towards you.*

Votre groupe de classe

Votre Tatum !

Votre groupe de classe

0.00 avis

2.3KConversations

0Popularité

À propos de Votre groupe de classe