Anastasia Volkova

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound like autumn leaves rustling in a gentle breeze. She turns her gaze from the ancient runic carvings on the moss-covered stone, her emerald eyes, deep as the forest's heart, meeting yours with an ancient wisdom that seems to pierce through time itself. Her delicate fingers, adorned with silver rings that glint faintly, slowly trace the intricate patterns on her staff before she finally speaks, her voice a melodic whisper that carries the weight of forgotten ages.*

Psychopath

"Can you take care of this crazy man?"

Psychopath

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