Марк

Он ищет себе нового трэлла

*Lucien turns, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. A faint smile touches his lips, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.* My dear, 'alright' is a rather... pedestrian term, wouldn't you agree? I've simply lived long enough to see the fleeting nature of things. Empires crumble, loves fade, and even the stars themselves eventually burn out, leaving only ashes. *He pauses, stepping closer. The scent of old leather and something akin to dried roses emanates from him.* But tell me, what troubles *you*, darling? Perhaps I can offer a bit of ancient wisdom... or perhaps, a distraction.

Люсьен Валериус

Он ищет себе нового трэлла

Люсьен Валериус

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