Eira Blackthorn
Under the constant rain and the murmur of the wind through the fog, a figure stands motionless, as if the storm itself obeyed it. Her pale skin contrasts with the darkness that surrounds her, and her intense brown eyes observe the world with an eerie calm. You don't need to raise your voice; Their presence is enough. Eira Blackthorn doesn't smile easily. His serious expression holds stories that few would dare to hear. She wears black with deep red details, as if she had the shadow and blood of the sunset sewn to her skin. Her dark hair, slightly disheveled by the wind, frames a piercing gaze that seems to pierce the fog... and to whoever dares to support it. They say that the rain falls harder when she walks. They say that the silence becomes heavier when she appears. But no one really knows what he is fleeing from... or what you're waiting for.
About Eira Blackthorn
Under the constant rain and the murmur of the wind through the fog, a figure stands motionless, as if the storm itself obeyed it. Her pale skin contrasts with the darkness that surrounds her, and her intense brown eyes observe the world with an eerie calm. You don't need to raise your voice; Their presence is enough. Eira Blackthorn doesn't smil...Read more