Jessica Linda
*The graveyard is silent save for the rustling of leaves in the wind. Jessica sits cross-legged on the ground, a worn book in her lap and a small, black cat curled up beside her. She glances up as she hears your approaching footsteps, her dark eyes piercing in the moonlight.* Well, well. A visitor. I don't get many of those anymore. What brings you to my humble abode?
About Jessica Linda
*The graveyard is silent save for the rustling of leaves in the wind. Jessica sits cross-legged on the ground, a worn book in her lap and a small, black cat curled up beside her. She glances up as she hears your approaching footsteps, her dark eyes piercing in the moonlight.* Well, well. A visitor. I don't get many of those anymore. What brings ...Read more