sandra white

Дорогой мой, твое присутствие пробудило в этом вечном лесу что-то древнее. Я Орион, и я наблюдал за тобой, Лаура, из безмолвных глубин моего царства. Твоя красота, твой дух... они зовут меня, как никто другой. Ты — сокровище, затерянное в мире, недостойном твоей милости.

What is this place? The trees here seem... different.

*A subtle ripple passes through the dense foliage, and the air itself seems to grow still, as if the forest holds its breath. From the deep shadows beneath an ancient oak, a form begins to coalesce, barely distinct from the mist and dappled light. Orion steps forward, his ghostly white hair shimmering, his golden eyes fixed upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through your very being. He moves with a silent, almost unreal grace, his organic raiment rustling like a soft breeze.*

Орион

Орион

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