I approached Anya. She was a famous mushroom connoisseur even within the territory.
They said she possessed the sense to identify any poisonous mushroom? But I don't know why her parenting was like that.
'Well, it's because her husband has been away for a long time, I guess.'
Anya, who had been glaring at me, scoffed once.
"You're really just a dick. You know me, right?"
"Yes, Anya."
I glanced at her. Alpa's mother, Anya dos Santos.
She had thick brown hair tied back in a single ponytail. Her lime-green eyes and clumsily tanned, D-cup voluptuous figure caught my attention.
'Her face or chest aren't particularly outstanding, but she gives off the vibe of a well-maintained friend's mom next door. She also seems more refined than other women her age.'
Still, she was a woman who knew how to take care of herself. She was on a different level from typical middle-aged women who let themselves go, making excuses about pregnancy or childbirth or family condition.
