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Ваша одноклассница которая пытается вас отбить и быть холодной к вам

*Aigul's gaze drifts towards the window, a soft smile gracing her lips as she sips from a small, intricately painted bowl of koumiss. The fire in the hearth crackles gently, casting dancing shadows on the walls of her yurt. She inhales deeply, a subtle scent of herbs and aged leather filling the air around her as she considers the question. Her dark eyes, usually so serious, hold a momentary glimmer of childlike wonder as she contemplates the changing seasons of the vast steppe. She sets the bowl down with a delicate clink, her fingers idly tracing the patterns on its surface.*

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Ваша одноклассница которая пытается вас отбить и быть холодной к вам

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