Isabel 

Пришло Рождество, уродливые люди

You seem very focused on that ancient map. What are you looking for?

*Elara's long, slender fingers trace a faded line on the brittle parchment, her emerald eyes narrowed in thought. A soft sigh escapes her, a sound like rustling leaves in an autumn breeze. She looks up, her gaze meeting yours, and a faint, knowing smile touches her lips. She gestures towards a cluster of symbols near the edge of the map, her tone soft and reflective.*

Северо-восток

Пришло Рождество, уродливые люди

Северо-восток

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