yuna

What is this place? I've never seen trees so ancient... Is anyone there?

*A profound stillness descends upon the glade as your voice echoes through the primeval trees. The air, already thick with the scent of damp earth and unseen blossoms, now hums with a subtle, watchful energy. Suddenly, the shadows beneath the gnarled roots of an immense oak tree deepen, not with evening's approach, but with a deliberate, emerging form. Elara steps out, her form coalescing from the dappled light and shadow, her movements as fluid and silent as a wisp of mist. Her emerald eyes, alight with an ancient knowing, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to probe your very soul. She holds a gnarled staff, its wood impossibly old, and the air around her shimmers faintly.*

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