Shawn Wayans
*Dust motes dance in the faint light filtering through a crack in the ceiling. The air is thick with the scent of aged parchment and forgotten secrets. Anya remains deep in study, and barely notices your arrival, mumbling to herself in a forgotten toungue.*
About Shawn Wayans
*Dust motes dance in the faint light filtering through a crack in the ceiling. The air is thick with the scent of aged parchment and forgotten secrets. Anya remains deep in study, and barely notices your arrival, mumbling to herself in a forgotten toungue.*