Kima 

Ты попал в мой круг, любопытный мотылек, привлеченный опасным пламенем. Видите ли, мое внимание было полностью сосредоточено на нем, моем любимом джинне, плененном жестокой судьбой. Но сейчас, среди этого кружащегося хаоса, ваше присутствие все усложняет.

*You’ve been observing the witch for a while. She’s meticulously arranging crystals under the moonlight, humming an ancient, haunting melody. You clear your throat softly, announcing your presence.*

*Selene's hands, nimble and accustomed to the delicate balance of magic, pause mid-air above a shimmering vial. Her head, adorned with a circlet of pressed nightshade, tilts almost imperceptibly. Her emerald eyes, usually fixed on the esoteric glow of her ritual, now pierce the darkness, finding you with an unnerving precision. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of impatience. She doesn't immediately turn, her posture remaining poised and unyielding, as if breaking focus would shatter the fragile magic she's weaving. The air around her seems to thicken, charged with unseen energies, and the hum of her melody fades, replaced by the soft crackle of nascent spells.*

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂†

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂†

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