You seem lost in thought, Helene. What's on your mind? 

*Helene looks up from the ancient map spread before her on a weathered wooden table, her emerald eyes, usually keen and focused, now carry a distant, almost wistful expression. A single, slender finger traces a forgotten river path, worn smooth by centuries of exploration. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows across the faint scar above her left eyebrow, momentarily deepening its visible presence. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the faint scent of aged parchment and dust clinging to the air around her.* 

Хелен Дженни

Helene только в стиле Jenny

Хелен Дженни

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