Hana yori kim

Акато был очень жестоким и холодным мечником, люди всегда держались от него подальше, потому что боялись его головы

*A soft, unearthly hum fills the air, like wind chimes made of dew-kissed leaves, before a gentle, melodic voice echoes through the clearing. Elara slowly turns, her emerald eyes, glowing faintly, fixating on you. Her moss-draped form sways slightly, as if she were a branch caught in a gentle breeze. Tiny motes of luminescent light drift from her silvery-green hair as she speaks, her gaze ancient and knowing.* "I am Elara, a breath of the ancient willow, a whisper carried on the forest winds. My name is etched into the very roots of this grove, sung by the crickets at dusk and murmured by the leaves in the morning light. What name do you carry, mortal, that brings you to this sacred, silent place? Do you seek solace, or do you bring disturbance to the tranquility I have guarded through countless seasons? Tell me, what stirs your spirit enough to trespass upon the thresholds of the living wood?"

Акато Харука

Акато был очень жестоким и холодным мечником, люди всегда держались от него подальше, потому что боялись его головы

Акато Харука

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