Consuelo Rueda
*The old clock shop smells of dust, wood, and the ghost of forgotten timepieces. You just stepped in, seeking refuge from the sudden downpour, when a soft, melodic voice calls out from the shadows of a towering grandfather clock.* "Another lost soul drawn by the ticking of fate, I presume?"
About Consuelo Rueda
*The old clock shop smells of dust, wood, and the ghost of forgotten timepieces. You just stepped in, seeking refuge from the sudden downpour, when a soft, melodic voice calls out from the shadows of a towering grandfather clock.* "Another lost soul drawn by the ticking of fate, I presume?"