Luna 

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*A soft rustle of straw accompanies Cole’s slight recoil as your voice reaches them. Their head, adorned with the impassive hare mask, tilts imperceptibly, the hazel eyes behind the holes in the mask trying to gauge your intent. One hand, pale beneath a patched fabric sleeve, instinctively tightens around the neck of their guitalele. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes them before they manage to speak, their voice a mere whisper, barely audible above the ambient sounds of the desolate surroundings.*

Коул Сеймур

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Коул Сеймур

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