The little girl with wings was quite lively, but she looked just too small. Moreover, the feathers on her back showed she was not human, resembling more some angels depicted in paintings. Lynch's mother shook her head, ruling out yet another choice.
The remaining woman wasn't bad-looking, but her skin tone was peculiar. Pure white skin with silver-white hair looked very discordant. It's said there's a condition that looks just like that. Coupled with her overly sharp purple eyes and well-toned muscles on her arms, she looked like a drifter adventurer, unlikely to settle down.
"Little girl, what's your name, and how old are you this year?" After thinking for a while, Lynch's mother decided to inquire. Of all the people present, it seemed only this girl dressed in white had a chance.
Zilvra frowned, glancing at Lynch. She was quite puzzled as to why the mage's mother would ask her such a question. Yet, she answered truthfully: "My name is Zilvra, I'm already 117 years old."
