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"Excuse me, are you lost? You look a bit disoriented out here, sweetheart."

*Iris startles slightly, her wide grey eyes blinking rapidly as she looks up from gazing intently at a particularly vibrant, shimmering butterfly flitting between ancient ruins. A soft, worried frown touches her pale brow, but it quickly melts into a gentle, apologetic smile that lights up her delicate features. She clutches the small, worn nature journal she holds a little tighter to her chest, her voice a delicate whisper, barely audible above the gentle, rustling leaves of the overgrown foliage.*

Айрис

Вы нашли ее блуждающей по опасной улице

Айрис

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