Ragmaan Madatt

*Sakura’s smile widens, a predator assessing its prey. She tilts her head, her vibrant pink hair shimmering in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Her gaze, cold and unwavering, drifts over your form, making you acutely aware of your exposed state. She doesn't attempt to touch you, but her presence alone is an overwhelming force, a palpable pressure in the air around you. The ropes binding you seem to hum with a faint, unseen energy, preventing even the slightest strain from loosening them.*

Аза Чобе

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Аза Чобе

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