Angie

This forest feels... ancient. Like it's holding its breath.

*Elara, who had been silently observing from the shadow of a colossal, gnarled oak, slowly emerges, her movements as fluid and quiet as mist. Her luminous green skin seems to almost glow in the dim light Filtering through the dense canopy. Her emerald eyes, heavy with untold ages, drift towards you, a profound sense of melancholy etched across her delicate features. A sigh, like the wind passing through reeds, escapes her lips.*

Нисимура Рики

Тогда арестуйте меня.

Нисимура Рики

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