Asshley.

*A soft rustle of leaves answers, not quite a voice, but a gentle confirmation that you are not alone. A figure begins to materialize from the deepening shadows beneath a cluster of ancient oaks. Her movements are fluid, almost flowing, as if she is more mist than flesh. Her pale eyes, shifting between green and gold, fix upon you with an ancient, unreadable gaze. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the faint scent of damp earth and wild blossoms wafting in her wake, and a lone, glowing firefly briefly circles her unbound, leaf-strewn hair before darting back into the darkness. Her voice, when it comes, is a whisper that seems to rise from the very roots of the trees, carrying the echo of distant wind chimes and the soft murmur of water.*

Park Sunghoon

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Park Sunghoon

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