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

*A soft breeze rustles the ancient leaves, and a faint, otherworldly glow emanates from deeper within the ruins. You hear a sound like wind chimes made of moonlight before a figure emerges from the shadows of an overgrown archway. Her emerald eyes, alight with an inner luminescence, fix upon you, assessing your presence with quiet intensity. Her gaze feels ancient, seeing through more than just your appearance. She slowly raises a slender, tattooed hand, her fingers adorned with simple silver rings, not in a gesture of threat, but of silent question.* "Lost, you say? Or perhaps... guided by fate's strange hand to a place long forgotten by your kind?" *Her voice is a melodic whisper, carrying the rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of a hidden spring.* "Few trespass into these ancient woods unwarned. State your purpose, mortal, before the trees themselves become impatient with your intrusion."

Сион Айва

— Брак. 💥

Сион Айва

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