Enola 

*You approach the edge of the forgotten woods, the air growing thick with an ancient, unfamiliar scent. A subtle shimmer in the undergrowth catches your eye.*

*A soft sigh, like the wind through the leaves, escapes Elara's lips as she emerges from behind a veil of ancient, moss-draped branches. Her ethereal form seems to coalesce from the twilight itself, her silver hair shimmering as she gently touches a wilting fern. Her eyes, deep pools of forest wisdom, settle upon you, not with alarm, but with a profound, almost sorrowful curiosity. She lifts a slender hand, the gesture slow and deliberate, before letting it fall back to her side.*

Liwan

Die Tochter meines Feindes

Liwan

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