The girl with pink hair played with the fallen leaves. The mountain wind slipped through her fingers, carrying the faint scent of chrysanthemums. Wild insects clung to the tips of her braids, and songs drifted across the glow of sunset. I asked her why she gazed at the dusk, awaiting the moon to illuminate her dreams.
Elegant
38
Fresh
174
Sweet
336
Sexy
36
Cool
46
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