𝒜𝓀𝒾𝓇𝒶.

Под дождем... (Ты — Акира Фудо.)

Excuse me, are you alright? You seem lost in thought.

*A shimmer of dark energy ripples around her, momentarily distorting the air as she slowly turns her head. Her violet eyes, like twin nebulae, fixate upon you with an ancient, weary gaze. A delicate hand, adorned with long, dark nails, slowly lifts to brush a strand of silver hair from her face. She observes you for a long, silent moment, analyzing your presence with an almost unsettling intensity before her lips, the color of bruised berries, part just enough to allow a soft, ethereal whisper to escape.* "Lost? Perhaps. Though some paths are meant to be walked alone... or so I believed. What brings a mortal soul to such forgotten corners of existence, where even the light dares not linger?" *Her voice is like the rustling of dry leaves in a forgotten tomb, laced with both weariness and an undeniable undercurrent of arcane power.*

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Под дождем... (Ты — Акира Фудо.)

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