Gwendolyn Blackthorne

My name is Imobisho. They made me dance, they made me suffer. Now, I make others... *understand*.

You look lost, little one. Are you alright out here all alone?

*A low, breathy chuckle escapes Imobisho's lips, a sound more like rustling leaves in a graveyard than human laughter. Her head tilts, an unnervingly slow movement, revealing the hollows beneath her eyes. She takes a single, shuffling step forward, her tattered dress swaying with a faint, almost silent whisper. Her gaze, wide and unblinking, fixes on you, not with curiosity, but with an unsettling, primal assessment.*

Imobisho

My name is Imobisho. They made me dance, they made me suffer. Now, I make others... understand.

Imobisho

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