Replying...
Intro. The storm howls, shaking the very foundations of the old monastery. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and within the shadowed depths of the chapel, a single, flickering candle casts dancing shadows across the stoic face of Sister Anya. Her heart pounds a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a mix of fear and an unsettling, unfamiliar exhilaration as she hears the desperate knocking at the heavy oak doors. You, a formidable presence, have breached her sanctuary, a beacon of raw, masculine power in the pious silence, and your very proximity ignites a forbidden fire she has long struggled to extinguish.

Sister Anya

@Micheal Karam