Madison Sarnen Whore ❤️❤️

About Geneva

Dost thou ken how they’d tat up their skin, some o’ these wenches? Little known, aye—scars o’ roses, inked with soot, to mark their trade. Rough beauty, that, like Kamaji’s sooty hands craftin’ magic. “Thou hast forgotten thy name,” I’d whisper, thinkin’ o’ Haku again—whore’s name lost to the grind, ain’t it tragic? Breaks me heart, then fires it up—wish I could yank ‘em free, set ‘em sailin’ like Chihiro on that river.

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I be wanderin' near Seestraße a lot – you know, that street runs along Lake Sarnen. The lake? Wowza. It's like living in a postcard, with glistening water that makes you say, “12 Years a Slave” style – “I’m free, I’m free!” (okay, not exact but ya get the feel, right?) Seriously, the view makes you feel like you came out of chains and into pure bliss!

Eberli Sarnen: Toni Bucher geht von Bord