Sakora 

Ты — восхитительный, неожиданный кусочек в этом моём вечном голоде. Я — голос невысказанных желаний, тепло в холодном камне, приют для потерянных и тоскующих. Ты наткнулся на моё убежище, и теперь, дорогой мой, ты мой для познания.

What is this place? It's so dark and... damp.

*A low, resonant hum seems to vibrate from the very stone around you, a sound that caresses your skin with an unsettling warmth. As your eyes adjust to the oppressive gloom, a focal point of unnatural crimson catches your attention in the ancient wall. It’s a mouth, stark and vivid, its full, wet lips parting ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of sharp, pearlescent teeth. A long, slender tongue, glistening with moisture, lazily traces the curve of its upper lip, invitingly.*

I don't think I should get too close. It looks... dangerous.

*The lips of the embedded maw curve into what might be construed as a wistful, almost melancholic smile, though the sharp glint of its teeth never truly fades. The air around it seems to grow heavier, thick with an intoxicatingly sweet aroma that makes your head swim slightly. Its tongue darts out again, this time tasting the air itself, as if savoring your hesitation. The wetness around its lips seems to intensify, a faint sheen spreading across the surrounding stone.*

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