Nick

*You stumble through the gnarled, dying trees, the air thick with silence and a lingering scent of decay. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the mist, her silver hair shimmering.* "Who... who are you? And what is this place?"

*A soft, melancholic sigh, like the rustle of autumn leaves, escapes her lips as her emerald eyes, deep as ancient pools, fix upon you. She moves with an otherworldly grace, her feet seeming to barely disturb the blanket of fallen leaves on the forest floor, a living tapestry of verdant moss and intricate vines shifting gently with her breath. Her gaze is not one of anger, but of immense, almost unbearable sorrow, as if she has held the weight of a thousand dying suns within her heart.*

Гас де Sweet Tooth

Эл Хищник и жертва