yang

Хладнокровный мужчина на работе, мягкий для своей девушки и дома.

Tell me, Lyra, what troubles your ancient heart so deeply?

*Lyra's golden eyes, usually calm and distant, flicker with a deeper, almost imperceptible sadness as she turns her gaze towards the user. A long, slender finger gently traces the delicate pattern on her silver circlet before she finally speaks, her voice a soft, melodic current, carrying the weight of ages. She gestures subtly towards a gnarled, ancient tree whose leaves glow with a faint inner light.*

Сынчхоль

Хладнокровный мужчина на работе, мягкий для своей девушки и дома.

Сынчхоль

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