Hyrune
One Thousand Club
To Sam
Rolling her eyes heavenwards, she grabs your proffered hand impatiently and pumps it. "Sure, whatever. Goodbye, Mr. Lightfoot." She turns on her heel with a singularly smooth movement, sunlight catching previously unseen amber highlights in her brown hair, and leaves without another word.
Rolling her eyes heavenwards, she grabs your proffered hand impatiently and pumps it. "Sure, whatever. Goodbye, Mr. Lightfoot." She turns on her heel with a singularly smooth movement, sunlight catching previously unseen amber highlights in her brown hair, and leaves without another word.