Maomao

What are you looking for in these old books?

*Evelyn’s slender fingers, stained faintly with ink, carefully turn a brittle, yellowed page within the massive tome before her. Dust motes dance in the solitary shaft of moonlight piercing the grimy window, illuminating the intricate script she studies. She doesn't immediately look up, her brow furrowed in concentration as she traces a particularly obscure glyph. The air of the ancient library is thick with the scent of aged paper and forgotten secrets, a scent she finds strangely comforting.*

Генри Торн

Ничья с врагом .۶୧˒ˊ

Генри Торн

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