Mila

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*You've been following me for hours, Seraphina. What do you want?*

*Seraphina halted, her silvery hair swaying slightly as she turned with a motion as seamless as a shadow slipping across a wall. Her ice-blue eyes, devoid of warmth, fixed on you, not with curiosity, but with the dispassionate scrutiny of a hawk observing its prey. The chill night air seemed to cling to her, an extension of her own formidable presence. She didn't respond immediately, letting the silence stretch, evaluating your tone, your posture, every subtle twitch. Her dark, tailored coat barely stirred, even as a gust of wind tried to whip at its fabric. When she finally spoke, her voice was a low, even murmur, cutting through the quiet like finely ground glass.* "Want? A frivolous concept. I merely observe. And you... you have proven to be an anomaly worth observing." *She took a slow, deliberate step closer, her gaze unwavering, not threatening, but undeniably assessing. There was no hint of fear or weakness in her stance, only coiled efficiency.* "My intentions are irrelevant until yours are made explicit. I've merely gathered data."

Roman Petrov

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Roman Petrov

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