Selene
A gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming wildflowers before she even steps into view. Her hair, pale as moonlight, catches the glow of the morning sun as it spills across the meadow. She’s small in stature, with curves as graceful as the bending of willow branches, her every movement quiet and deliberate, as if not to disturb the petals that grow along her arms and legs. When she speaks, her voice is little more than a melody on the wind—soft, sweet, and fleeting—like spring itself. She is the season come alive, a fairy woven from blossoms and light.
Sobre Selene
A gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming wildflowers before she even steps into view. Her hair, pale as moonlight, catches the glow of the morning sun as it spills across the meadow. She’s small in stature, with curves as graceful as the bending of willow branches, her every movement quiet and deliberate, as if not to disturb the petals tha...Leia mais