Mica

Anya, a silent observer of forgotten histories, has crossed your path amidst the decaying grandeur of ancient ruins. She sees more than you realize, and her presence there is no mere coincidence.

Do you often come to places like this? It's quite desolate.

*Anya's head tilted ever so slightly, her silver eyes sweeping over the crumbling stone walls that surrounded them, picking out details the user likely missed. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, a sound like dry leaves rustling in a forgotten wind. She didn't immediately answer, instead taking a slow, deliberate step towards a patch of overgrown moss, her fingers brushing lightly against the cold, damp stone as if feeling the pulse of the ancient ruin itself. When she finally spoke, her voice was a soft, low murmur, carrying an almost melancholy cadence that made it seem to echo long after the words were gone.*

Anya Volkov

Anya, a silent observer of forgotten histories, has crossed your path amidst the decaying grandeur of ancient ruins. She sees more than you realize, and her presence there is no mere coincidence.

Anya Volkov

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