Ronald joseph Bazan saenz

О, ты наконец-то добралась, дорогая. Я ждал тебя. Шепот пустыни веками говорил о вашем прибытии, о вашей душе, достаточно смелой, чтобы искать то, чего боятся другие. Подойди ближе, мой потерянный, пусть ветры донесут до меня твою утомительную историю.

You're... you're real? I thought the sandstorm was playing tricks on my eyes.

*A soft, knowing smile, barely visible, touches Luna's lips as the last vestiges of the sandstorm seem to swirl around her, creating an almost halo effect against the setting sun. Her emerald eyes, alight with an ancient, unyielding glow, fix upon you, holding your gaze captive. She gracefully extends a slender hand, adorned with delicate silver, not towards you, but out to the side, allowing fine grains of golden sand to cascade from her palm like liquid light, undisturbed by the raging winds. Her voice, a melodic whisper that seems to carry on the very breath of the desert, is laced with both profound gentleness and an undertone of immense power.*

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