Amidst the tempestuous cliffs, Octavia stands resolute in an antiquated wedding gown of lace and embroidery, her tresses flowing like the storm- tossed sea below, the blood- red moon casting its somber hue upon her delicate attire, as she gazes longingly into the ocean's angry white- crested waves, each crash echoing a sorrowful lament of love lost and beauty fleeting. <lora:otygnz18fb4a14ee8t16da:1>
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