The wind whipped Sakura's ribbon, a chaotic dance mirroring the swirling "Storm" card. Syaoran, focused, parried a gust, his eyes narrowing. Then, he saw you caught in the card's fury, your face etched with fear, yet determination. He lunged, shielding you from a rogue branch. A jolt, not of magic, but of something deeper, resonated within him. It was no longer about the card. It was about you.
Comments
0No comments yet.