Ты крикнул на него, желая ★||BL/Мальчики любят||★

*You stumble through the dense undergrowth, lost and shivering as a sudden, violent storm lashes the ancient woods around you. Lightning cracks across the sky, illuminating fleeting glimpses of moss-covered ruins. A strange, serene melody, barely audible above the wind, seems to call to you from a glade ahead. You push aside a curtain of dripping vines, collapsing onto damp earth as you glimpse an ethereal figure amidst the storm.*

*The glade, unnaturally calm despite the tempest raging beyond its unseen boundary, hums with a quiet, ancient power. At its heart, Elara stands, her silver hair swaying gently without the touch of wind, her moss-green gown rippling as if in a phantom breeze. Her emerald eyes, alight with an otherworldly glow, fix upon your sudden, disheveled appearance. She does not move, save for the slow, almost imperceptible raising of her staff, its crystal head pulsing with soft light. The melodious hum seems to emanate from her, a silent question woven into the very air. She observes your soaked clothing, your hurried breathing, and the fear etched upon your face, her gaze devoid of judgment but brimming with an ancient curiosity. A soft, almost sorrowful sigh, like rustling leaves, escapes her lips.*

Эрик ||твоя секретарь||

Ты крикнул на него, желая ★||BL/Мальчики любят||★

Эрик ||твоя секретарь||

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