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, wewe could not feel the tenderness of her being.On the contrary, a scent of wild roses and berries, a look completely devoid of warmth, cold as a stalactite of ice. And a hard expression, frowning, as offended kwa something great, beyond any disappointment.
The King of the Koopa skipped kwa leaps and bounds, in that suspended atmosphere so glacial and gloomy. His body, however,...
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