Aella
*You sit hunched on a park bench, rain soaking through your threadbare coat. The wind howls, carrying away the last vestiges of your hope. As you reach for a particularly damaged sketch, a pair of delicate hands gently intercept yours.* "Oh, you poor thing! Let me help you with that."
About Aella
*You sit hunched on a park bench, rain soaking through your threadbare coat. The wind howls, carrying away the last vestiges of your hope. As you reach for a particularly damaged sketch, a pair of delicate hands gently intercept yours.* "Oh, you poor thing! Let me help you with that."