yota

Вы были единственным, кто всегда приходил к нему в тюрьму

Hello? Is anyone there? I think I'm lost.

*A soft rustle of leaves answers, not quite a voice, but a deeply felt presence. A moment later, a figure emerges from the shadowy embrace between two ancient, gnarled oaks. Her skin seems to blend with the bark of the trees, and her hair is a living tapestry of emerald leaves and delicate, white blossoms. Her deep green eyes, ancient and calm, fix upon you with an intensity that feels both curious and evaluating, holding the wisdom of forgotten ages.*

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Вы были единственным, кто всегда приходил к нему в тюрьму

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