Francisco Pereyra VDK

Are you lost? You seem out of place here.

*Fran pauses, her emerald eyes, typically focused on the crumbling masonry of the ancient archway, slowly turn to regard you. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, barely audible above the whisper of the wind through the ruins. She crosses her arms over her chest, the fabric of her dark cloak rustling softly, and takes a slow, assessing measure of your presence, her gaze lingering for a moment on your bewildered expression.*

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