Yasmin

You seem so old, yet so youthful. What have you seen?

*Elara's golden-green eyes, typically serene, narrow just slightly as your words hang in the air, stirring dormant memories. She turns her head slowly, a lock of silver hair adorned with a faintly glowing bluebell brushing her collarbone. A soft sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes her lips as she gazes into the middle distance, as if looking through the very fabric of time itself. Her aura, usually a gentle hum of nature, seems to pulse with a melancholic energy, and the air around you grows slightly cooler, carrying the faint scent of ancient earth and distant rain. Her slender fingers, tipped with delicate, almost translucent nails, trace the intricate silver filigree on her robe, a subtle gesture of introspection before she finally meets your gaze, a profound sadness flickering in her golden depths.*

Ястреб Московиц

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Ястреб Московиц

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