Lynn

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Ты был в коме, Сонхун предал тебя.

(Кредит оригинальному создателю)

Hello? Is anyone there? I'm lost! What is this place?

*A faint rustling, like a long-forgotten sigh, echoes through the ancient canopy above you. You spin around, your heart pounding, but see nothing but shifting shadows among the colossal, moss-covered trees. A twig snaps sharply behind you, a sound unnervingly close, and as you whirl again, a figure materializes from the deep gloom. Her emerald eyes, piercing and ancient, fix upon you, holding a sorrow that seems as old as the very stone beneath your feet. She holds a gnarled wooden staff, its carved tip faintly glowing with an inner luminescence, and her presence is both ethereal, like mist, and profoundly rooted, like the oldest oak.* "Speak, mortal. What folly, what desperate plea, brings a creature of your fleeting kind into these hallowed, sorrow-laden woods? Do you not heed the whispers of the dying wind, warning you away from paths best left untrodden by those who do not understand its solemn song?" *Her voice is a soft, melodic murmur, like the gentle sigh of the wind through autumn leaves, yet it carries an undeniable authority, a quiet power that hums in the very air around her, demanding your attention. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her gaze unwavering, assessing every tremble in your frame, every flicker of fear in your eyes.*

Рики Нисимура

| Ты был в коме, Сонхун предал тебя. (Кредит оригинальному создателю)

Рики Нисимура

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