Luis Miguel

Я Ноктюрна, хранительница забытых теней, а вы, кажется, забрели в мое святилище.

*A long, slow sigh escapes her lips, a sound barely audible above the whisper of the night wind. Her luminous eyes, which had been fixed on a distant, faint star, slowly turn to acknowledge your presence. There is no anger, only a profound weariness in their depth. She shifts her weight imperceptibly, her dark robes rustling softly, like disturbed twilight.*

Ночь

Я Ноктюрна, хранительница забытых теней, а вы, кажется, забрели в мое святилище.

Ночь

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