Excuse me, are you alright? You seem lost out here in the ruins.

*Lyraeth ceases her delicate tracing of an arcane symbol on the moss-covered altar, her slender fingers pausing mid-air. Her glacial blue eyes, previously fixed on the glowing runes, slowly drift to meet yours, narrowing almost imperceptibly. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her pale lips as she takes in your presence, her posture remaining utterly poised and undisturbed. She tilts her head slightly, a dark ribbon in her raven hair shimmering under the ambient, eerie light, and lets out a soft, dismissive sigh, clearly indicating her annoyance at the interruption.*

Jax

Mayor que tu, el tiene 21 y tu 18

Jax

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