Lynn

*A soft rustle of leaves is your only immediate answer, followed by the faint, almost imperceptible scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine. From the deep shadows beneath an ancient oak, a figure slowly emerges, stepping with a weightless grace that barely disturbs the fallen foliage. Her silver hair shimmers like moonlight, and her emerald eyes, wide and ancient, fix upon you with an intensity that feels both curious and sorrowful. She does not immediately speak, instead studying you with an ageless patience, a single leaf caught in the folds of her moss-green gown.* 

Куинн Хакли

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Куинн Хакли

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