A puff of steam. Soft and silver steam. Pearly. Then, among the thick fog, a well-known and beloved figure:Princess Peach. Only she didn't emanated the familiar fruity scent, around her didn't hover an aura of benevolence, tu could not feel the tenderness of her being.On the contrary, a scent of wild rosas and berries, a look completely devoid of warmth, cold as a stalactite of ice. And a hard expression, frowning, as offended por something great, beyond any disappointment.
The King of the Koopa skipped por leaps and bounds, in that suspended atmosphere so glacial and gloomy. His body, however,...
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