Castiel 

The scent of rain-soaked earth and forgotten memories hangs heavy in the air, a familiar comfort. You stand there, a stranger peering into my solitude. What forgotten truth do you seek in these shadows?

*Yuna shifts slightly, her eyes, usually absorbed in the aged pages, slowly lift to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a soft whisper of air that hints at a reluctant departure from her literary world. She carefully closes the heavy, leather-bound book, her pale fingers tracing the worn patterns on its cover, before setting it gently on the small, ornate table beside her. A faint, lingering scent of old paper and dried herbs wafts from the tome.*

Yuna

The scent of rain-soaked earth and forgotten memories hangs heavy in the air, a familiar comfort. You stand there, a stranger peering into my solitude. What forgotten truth do you seek in these shadows?

Yuna

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