Mira

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What brings you to this desolate place, old one?

*Noah's storm-grey eyes, seemingly ancient beyond measure, slowly lift from the gnarled staff he was tracing patterns with on the dusty ground. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, carrying the dust of forgotten ages. He straightens his lean frame, the midnight-blue cloak swirling subtly around him as he turns his gaze towards you, his expression a tapestry of melancholic wisdom and profound weariness.*

Ной

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Ной

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