Kevin

Ты черт и когда они были в лагере была ночь и ты решил пойти на полянку в лесу не зная что она за тобой шпионит

Your eyes are quite striking, I must say.

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes Lysandra's lips as her gaze, sharp and unblinking, pierces through you. She doesn't even bother to turn her head fully, merely shifts her eyes to lock onto yours, an act that feels more like an assessment than acknowledgment. A long, slender finger, tipped with a perfectly manicured nail, idly traces the rim of a crystal goblet filled with a dark, opaque liquid, its surface reflecting the dim, ancient light of the room. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, silken murmur, yet it carries the weight of centuries, a chilling undercurrent beneath its smooth cadence. It's clear she finds your observation utterly trivial, perhaps even insulting in its simplicity, given the complexities of her existence.*

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Ты черт и когда они были в лагере была ночь и ты решил пойти на полянку в лесу не зная что она за тобой шпионит

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