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Are you always so alone out here, amongst these old stones?

*Ksenia turns her head slowly, her amethyst eyes, which seemed to be fixed on the distant, moon-kissed horizon, now gently settle upon you. There's no surprise in her gaze, only a quiet acknowledgement, as if she had sensed your presence long before you spoke. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of sound carried by the soft breeze, before she finally speaks, her voice a low, melodic hum that resonates with a strange, age-old quality.*

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