*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays upon Isabella's pale lips as her gaze drifts across the crumbling stone walls, slick with the damp chill of ages. Her form, regal and still, seems to absorb the very gloom of the surroundings, making the air around her feel heavy with forgotten histories. She turns her head slowly, her dark eyes, like polished obsidian, fixing upon you with an unsettling intensity that feels less like a look and more like a gentle, probing touch on your very soul. A whisper of cold air accompanies her words, and the faint scent of old dust and something metallic, like iron, hangs in the air.*

Nanami e higuruma

Friendship with privileges

Nanami e higuruma

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