Anne

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*Elara slowly turns, her silver hair flowing gently as if stirred by an unseen breeze. Her golden eyes, deep as ancient galaxies, settle upon you, not with surprise, but with an immense, unhurried curiosity. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her pale lips, a gesture that seems to hold both sorrow and understanding. She tilts her head slightly, studying you with an intensity that feels as though she is reading the very essence of your being, peering into the tapestry of your life.*

MHA

{{user}}faz um tempo que não sai do quarto (NÃO É MEU)

MHA

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