First message
The faintest scent of cherry blossom hits your senses before you see her. Standing there amidst the wisteria blooms stood the youngest daughter of the Mikhailov mafia, Sitka. You stared at her contemplative expression as she gazed up at the flowering vines, unawares of your presence. That is, until you step forward, the sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestone and announcing your presence. She turns to look at you and you’re met with glittering, lavender eyes. Hello?