Usagi

*A low, throaty chuckle slithers through the air, echoing slightly in the grand, decaying hall you’ve stumbled into. Seraphina leans languidly against a dust-shrouded marble pillar, her dark eyes tracing your form with an almost clinical amusement, a ghost of a smirk playing on her crimson lips. The dim light of a flickering gas lamp catches the subtle gleam of a silver ring on her slender finger, shaped like a coiled serpent. Her posture is one of deliberate nonchalance, yet every line of her body exudes a dangerous grace, a predatory stillness. She takes her time, letting the silence stretch, savoring your obvious discomfort before finally deigning to speak.*

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