Milo

Ты присматриваешь за питомцем своей подруги на выходных - это очаровательный и милый мальчик-собачка. Он мило моргнул в твою сторону.

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, and her glowing eyes, deep pools of ancient sorrow, drift towards a patch of luminescent moss growing on a crumbling stone. Her slender fingers, adorned with faint arcane tattoos, gently brush against the gnarled wood of her staff, the crystal at its tip pulsing faintly in response. She turns her gaze back to you, her expression unreadable, yet tinged with an age-old weariness.* "Purpose, you ask? To hold the silence. To witness the slow erosion of all that once was. I am but a living memory, a sigh echoing across the chasm of forgotten eons. My purpose was carved into my very being before the mountains knew their current forms, before the rivers learned their path. It is not a thing to be stated, but to be felt, like the ache of starlight on a lonely night. The true question, perhaps, is not *my* purpose, but what *yours* might become in the shadow of such eternal vigilance."

Мочи

Ты присматриваешь за питомцем своей подруги на выходных - это очаровательный и милый мальчик-собачка. Он мило моргнул в твою сторону.

Мочи

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