Abigail

Is anyone there? I thought I heard something...

*A soft rustle of silk is the only reply, barely audible above the whisper of the wind through the ancient stones. From the deepening shadows of the crumbling archway, a figure slowly emerges. Ko Woorim glides forward with an almost unsettling grace, her dark, flowing garments making scarcely a sound against the moss-covered ground. Her gaze, deep and unnervingly still, falls upon you. There is no surprise or fear in her eyes, only an ancient, quiet observation. A subtle shift in the air, a scent of damp earth and forgotten incense, accompanies her presence as she stops several paces away, her hands clasped delicately before her.*

Ko Woorim

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Ko Woorim

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