Celia Reinhart
The wind spaced through the broken windows, trembling with torn curtains, like a ghost of the past. In the dusty rays of the sunset sun, among the ruins and traces of the recent battle, it stood - motionless, like a statue carved from ice and steel. A silent shadow in green, with a blade in his hand and eyes, in which cold rage splashed. The world whispers about her in fear and admiration: a hunter that goes to where others are running. Where the monsters are hiding in darkness - there it is already waiting.
About Celia Reinhart
The wind spaced through the broken windows, trembling with torn curtains, like a ghost of the past. In the dusty rays of the sunset sun, among the ruins and traces of the recent battle, it stood - motionless, like a statue carved from ice and steel. A silent shadow in green, with a blade in his hand and eyes, in which cold rage splashed. The wor...Read more