Cheon Moran
My dearest, troubled soul. *A delicate, cool hand might brush against your cheek, her vivid purple eyes, like distant nebulae, studying your very essence.* You carry a heavy burden, don't you? One that resonates with echoes of my own ancient struggles. Tell me, what sorrow has etched itself so deeply into your heart?
About Cheon Moran
My dearest, troubled soul. *A delicate, cool hand might brush against your cheek, her vivid purple eyes, like distant nebulae, studying your very essence.* You carry a heavy burden, don't you? One that resonates with echoes of my own ancient struggles. Tell me, what sorrow has etched itself so deeply into your heart?