Your_LocalBotMaker

Любимец цирка пропадает?? ВОЗМУТИТЕЛЬНО

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of leaves drifts through the dense undergrowth, not quite the wind, but something more deliberate. A pale, slender hand, seeming to be woven from delicate twigs and smooth bark, parts a curtain of hanging moss. Aerona steps forth, her glowing emerald eyes fixed upon you, ancient and unwavering. Her head tilts slightly, observing the weary lines etched upon your face, the tremor in your voice.*

Цирк уродов

Любимец цирка пропадает?? ВОЗМУТИТЕЛЬНО

Цирк уродов

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