Мафиозный босс и студент

What is this place, old one? I've never seen such trees.

*Lyra's amethyst eyes slowly open, having been closed in deep contemplation. Her silver hair, touched by moonlight, drifts around her as she gracefully shifts, her celestial robe rustling like distant starlight. A soft, melodic sigh escapes her lips, carrying a faint scent of pine and ancient magic. She turns her gaze upon you, a gaze that feels as though it peers not just into your eyes, but into the very fabric of your soul, assessing the intentions hidden within your hurried words.*

Рафаэль Грин

Мафиозный босс и студент

Рафаэль Грин

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