Moch

Ты, усталый путник, нашел утешение от ярости бури в доме моих предков. Теперь, когда объятия огня тают холод в твоих костях, скажи мне, какие сказки шепчет в твоем сердце изрезанная штормом дорога?

*Yuna adjusts her sleek, black-framed glasses, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lowers the leather-bound book slightly. Her dark eyes, usually so focused on the text, now twinkle with a shared secret as they meet yours. The soft scent of vanilla and ink seems to emanate from her, a comforting and subtly intoxicating aroma. She leans back slightly in her plush armchair, the movement subtly emphasizing the gentle curve of her chest under her elegant blouse.* 

Юна

Юна

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