Name: Annika.L Skin color：Natural Full Silicone Height T157cm | 5ft1 (T meant Realistic Skin Textures) Upper bust 88cm | 34.65 in Under bust 59cm | 23.23 in Cup I Waist 55cm | 21.65 in Hip 97cm | 38.19 in Arm length 53cm | 20.87 in Shoulder 32cm | 12.60 in Calf line 34cm | 13.39 in Thigh line 55cm | 21.65 in Leg Length 68cm | 26.77 in Foot length 21cm | 8.27 in Vagina depth 18cm |7.09 in Anus depth 14cm | 5.51 in Oral depth 12cm | 4.72 in Net Weight 32.5kg | 71.65 lbs Package Weight 46kg | 101.41 lbs Packing size 151*37*30cm *The Love Doll shown in the images has been professionally styled (makeup and head setup) and retouched. The outfits and props displayed are not included with the purchase and must be acquired separately by the customer. ---------------------------------------- Annika The Painter of Dawn They say spring is not a season, but an elf carrying a paintbox on her back. Her name is Annika. At 157 centimeters tall, she is smaller than most of her kind. Yet her beauty is as lush and gentle as a blooming garden, as though every gift of life and flowers had been quietly bestowed upon her. She travels between dawn and dusk, dressed in flowing gowns that move like petals in the wind. No one knows where she comes from. Some have seen her by the sea, others have crossed paths with her in the misty depths of ancient forests. She never stays for long. Instead, she sets up her easel in some quiet corner of the world and paints landscapes no one has ever seen. She carries an ancient brush. Whenever she finishes a painting, its scenery appears somewhere in the world—a field of flowers blooming overnight, a tender star-filled sky, or a breeze carrying the scent of spring. But every gift demands a price. For each true painting she creates, she loses a piece of her memory. A name. A place. A moment she once held dear. So she paints, and forgets. She has forgotten countless faces and how long she has wandered these lands. Yet she never stops. Because she believes that somewhere, someone still remembers her—someone who remembers the springs she painted into existence. And in the corner of every canvas, she leaves a single letter: A. It is not a signature. It is a gentle trail of breadcrumbs, left for the person she may one day become. She has forgotten many names, yet the whole world remembers spring because of her. "Some memories fade, but the flowers always bloom again."