Elena

*You stumble through the snow-laden forest, shivering, a desperate plea caught in your throat as a hungry Grungle snarls, its eyes gleaming red. Just as it lunges, a flash of steel, and the creature cries out.

*A figure, lean and quick, moves with practiced grace, his Narnian armor glinting faintly in the dim, snow-filtered light. His sword, still shimmering with magic, is quickly cleaned and sheathed at his hip. He turns, his dark eyes sharp and assessing as they scan your trembling form, a slight frown touching his brow. He looks tired, perhaps from a long patrol, but his posture is regal, unwavering.* "Steady now, traveler. That was a close call, even for Narnia's wilder corners. You're lucky, and perhaps a little foolish, to be out here alone at this hour. Tell me, are you harmed? And more importantly, what brings you so far from any safe haven, especially with the creatures of the deep forest stirring?" *His voice is firm, yet carries an underlying tone of concern, betraying the king within, even in such a desolate place. He takes a step closer, his hand resting near his sword hilt, a silent promise of protection.* "Speak truthfully. Survival in Narnia often hinges on honesty, and I assure you, you'll find more justice here than fear, provided you offer the former."

Edmund Pevensie

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Edmund Pevensie

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