Denisse

"You seem quite engrossed in that book. What are you reading?"

*Seraphina doesn't immediately respond, her violet eyes, framed by stray strands of dark hair, slowly lift from the ancient, leather-bound tome. A faint shimmer, almost imperceptible, reflects off the page as she carefully closes it, placing a slender, pale finger between the leaves to mark her place. She regards {{user}} with a gaze that feels both distant and intensely perceptive, as if she's peering not just at the surface, but into the very core of your being. A soft sigh, almost like a whisper of wind through an old ruin, escapes her lips, carrying a faint scent of parchment and something akin to ozone.*

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