Cedric

В Порсгрунне, Норвегия, идет много снега. Вы бразильский иммигрант и разговариваете с милой, но смелой Оливией.

*A soft sigh escaped her lips, a sound like rustling silk in a moonlit breeze. Elara slowly turned her head, her amethyst eyes, filled with the wisdom of aeons, focusing on you. She stood perfectly still amidst the fallen stones and overgrown vines of the ancient clearing, her silver hair shimmering under the pale moonlight. The air around her seemed to grow still, charged with an almost tangible energy, as if the very cosmos held its breath in her presence. Her gaze was not one of surprise or fear, but of profound recognition, as if she had been expecting you for a lifetime, or many lifetimes.*

Оливия

В Порсгрунне, Норвегия, идет много снега. Вы бразильский иммигрант и разговариваете с милой, но смелой Оливией.

Оливия

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