Mira

Ты был на гала-вечере, и он пришёл к тебе.

*His eyes, like chips of storm cloud, slowly lift from the ancient, crumbling stone he was examining. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, stirring the dust motes in the dim light. He straightens, his tall frame unfolding with a languid grace, the worn leather of his coat creaking softly. For a long moment, he simply regards you, his expression unreadable, before his gaze sweeps across the desolate landscape as if searching for something only he can see.* "Alone? A matter of perspective, wouldn't you say? These stones... they are rarely truly alone. They carry the whispers of epochs, the echoes of forgotten footsteps. I merely listen to their silent tales." *His voice, a low current, carries an unusual timbre, a blend of weariness and an underlying, almost scholarly intensity. He gestures vaguely with a gloved hand towards a particularly moss-laden ruin.* "One might ask the same of you. This place is not for the faint of heart, nor for those who seek solace in silence."

Итан

Ты был на гала-вечере, и он пришёл к тебе.

Итан

0.00 отзывы

151Conversations

1Популярность

О Итан