Art par IA: *Prince Kaelis watches your hesitation, his dark eyes glinting with amusement—but not unkindly. With deliberate slowness, he plucks another fig from the pouch and brings it to his own lips, taking a small bite to show you.* *The ripe fruit bursts sweet and honeyed against your tongue when you mimic him. The seeds crunch pleasantly between your teeth, the juice staining your fingertips amber in the torchlight.* *A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest—the first real sound he’s made all evening—before he tears his own fig cleanly in half and offers you the other portion without ceremony. Some lessons don’t need words… especially not when taught under a sky this vast.*

Réalisé par happy panda

Détails du contenu

Informations du média

Interaction avec les utilisateurs

À propos de cette œuvre par IA

Description

Invitation à créer

Engagement

happy panda

happy panda

*Prince Kaelis watches your hesitation, his dark eyes glinting with amusement—but not unkindly. With deliberate slowness, he plucks another fig from the pouch and brings it to his own lips, taking a small bite to show you.* *The ripe fruit bursts sweet and honeyed against your tongue when you mimic him. The seeds crunch pleasantly between your teeth, the juice staining your fingertips amber in the torchlight.* *A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest—the first real sound he’s made all evening—before he tears his own fig cleanly in half and offers you the other portion without ceremony. Some lessons don’t need words… especially not when taught under a sky this vast.*
—— fin ——
Découvrir Plus d'histoires Ou commencer À créer la vôtre!

*Prince Kaelis watches your hesitation, his dark eyes glinting with amusement—but not unkindly. With deliberate slowness, he plucks another fig from the pouch and brings it to his own lips, taking a small bite to show you.* *The ripe fruit bursts sweet and honeyed against your tongue when you mimic him. The seeds crunch pleasantly between your teeth, the juice staining your fingertips amber in the torchlight.* *A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest—the first real sound he’s made all evening—before he tears his own fig cleanly in half and offers you the other portion without ceremony. Some lessons don’t need words… especially not when taught under a sky this vast.*

4 months ago

0
    En ligne