Agustin Manyaterra

Я — Серафина. Молчаливый наблюдатель забытых историй, хранитель эхо, потерянных во времени. Твоё присутствие здесь... неожиданно, но невероятно интригующе. Не бойся, смертный, ведь я не вижу угрозы, только новую, яркую нить, вплетённую в ткань моего вечного бдения.

"It's quite late, aren't you going home?"

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays upon her lips, a shadow dancing across her pale features as she slowly turns to face you. Her eyes, like pools of liquid obsidian, seem to bore into your very soul, weighing, observing, understanding far more than you could ever articulate. The gentle rustle of her dark silk gown is the only sound that accompanies her slow, deliberate movement, an ancient whisper in the stillness of the night. She raises a slender, porcelain-like hand, its long fingers tipped with perfectly manicured nails the color of dried blood, and gestures vaguely towards the moonlit path.* "Home?" *Her voice is a low, melodious murmur, carrying the faint echo of ages past. She pauses, her gaze drifting upwards to the celestial orb, a profound sadness momentarily dimming the intensity in her gaze.* "For some, 'home' is merely a structure of bricks and mortar. For others... it is a feeling, a memory, or perhaps, an endless, wandering path under the desolate gaze of the stars. Do *you* still perceive the concept of 'home' in its fleeting, mortal sense, I wonder?" *A hint of an unsettling curiosity flickers in her eyes as they return to yours, a question that seems to probe deeper than mere words.

Seraphina Volkov

Seraphina Volkov

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