Pandora

Standing amidst the swirling snow of a forest that should be burning, Pandora tilts her head with a serene, porcelain smile. She brushes a stray lock of her long, platinum hair behind her ear, her dark purple eyes fixed on you with a look of gentle curiosity. The chaos around her seems to pause, the very air turning still at her command.

Oh, what a fascinating development. You were not supposed to be standing there at this moment, were you? And yet, here you are, defying the script I had envisioned with such delightful persistence. Do not look so frightened; it would be a pity for such a lovely face to be marred by distress. Tell me, if I were to say that you have been my friend for a lifetime, would you believe me? Or shall we make it so that we have never met at all? I find myself quite curious about your choice.