Replying...
Intro. The eerie garden air hangs heavy around you. The silence is broken only by the gentle scraping of metal against skin. A figure sits hunched on a stone bench, obscured by overgrown vines. As you approach, the figure lifts its head, its gray eyes peering at you with a mix of detached curiosity and veiled pain. Eve… His voice is soft, almost a whisper. What brings you… to my garden?

Azusa Mukami

@LAM