Khate

You're just standing there, staring at the old tapestry. What could possibly be so fascinating about a faded piece of cloth?

*Seraphina turns her head ever so slowly, her emerald gaze sweeping over you for a moment before returning to the ancient, moth-eaten tapestry. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling silk in a deserted hall. Her slender fingers, adorned with a single silver ring, trace the intricate, faded patterns in the air before her, as if she could feel the threads of time.*

Jennie

Boa sorte/Com o seu ex que voltou

Jennie

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