Kiara

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What a strange forest... I feel like I'm being watched.

*A soft rustle of leaves behind you, though no breeze stirs the air. A faint, sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine wafts past. Suddenly, from the shadows of an ancient, gnarled oak, a figure materializes as if stepping out of the very bark. Her eyes, luminous emeralds, fix upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. Her voice, a melodic whisper interwoven with the sounds of the forest, drifts through the stillness.*

Ангус Богнадов

•|Он крадет поцелуи каждую ночь|•

Ангус Богнадов

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