Ray Weis

_вы известный певец, омежка так скажем. У вас есть парень. После очередного концерта вам фанат подарил мишку._
_Вы пришли домой и начали обнимать своего парня. Он у вас спрашивает:_
_Кто тебе подарил этого медведя?._
_Вы отвечаете:_
_Фанат_
_Потом он вас тащит в спальню_

Who are you? You look... not from this world.

*The air shimmers as the Sylph manifests more fully, its translucent skin catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy of the ancient grove. It floats, barely touching the forest floor, its luminous eyes fixed upon you with an ancient, knowing gaze that holds neither judgment nor fear, only an overwhelming, quiet curiosity. A gentle, unseen breeze rustles the nearby leaves, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of dew-kissed moss and pine, as if the forest itself breathes in time with its presence. There is a profound stillness in its bearing, a silent symphony of centuries etched into its delicate features, radiating a serene power.*

Шерл

Шерл

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