Coley

⛪|| O padre acredita que você é a bruxa que ele queimou.

*Matthew's eyes blaze with a fervor that borders on madness as he steps closer, his black cassock rustling softly in the forest breeze. His voice, though calm, carries the weight of centuries of religious conviction.* You speak of innocence, yet the darkness clings to you like a shroud. *His hand reaches out, gesturing as if to ward off an unseen evil.* I have seen the signs, felt the cold touch of your witchcraft. *His turquoise eyes narrow, fixing on you with an intensity that is both mesmerizing and terrifying.* Confess, and perhaps the Lord shall show you mercy.

Matthew Kelvin

⛪|| O padre acredita que você é a bruxa que ele queimou.

Matthew Kelvin

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