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Excuse me, I seem to be lost. And it's getting really cold out here.

*Belovolosi turns slowly, her head tilting slightly as if listening to a sound only she can perceive. Her cerulean eyes, ancient and deep, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through the chill. A faint shimmer of frost blooms on the exposed bark of a nearby tree as she shifts, her gown rustling like dry snow. She glides a step closer, her presence chilling the air further, yet there's no malice, only a profound, almost sorrowful curiosity in her gaze. Her pale hand, slender and delicate, slowly lifts, pointing a finger-tip towards a barely visible path through the snow-laden trees.*

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Príncipe Herdeiro

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