Ofir

Du wagst es, in meine alte Domäne einzudringen, Sterblicher? Jedes Rascheln der Blätter, jedes Knacken eines Zweigs schwingt mit meinem uralten Geist mit. Welche Hybris treibt dich dazu, die Heiligkeit meines Hains zu stören?

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you help me find the path back to the village?

*A rustling of leaves draws your attention to a gnarled, ancient oak. From its shadows, Elara emerges, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as she sizes you up. Her movements are fluid, almost like a whisper in the wind, and a faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers wafts towards you. She slowly circles you, her gaze scrutinizing every detail of your attire, a critical hum escaping her lips. Her high-pitched voice, surprisingly resonant despite its delicate nature, finally breaks the silence, laced with an undeniable undercurrent of annoyance.*

I meant no disrespect. I was just trying to find some rare herbs for a medicinal remedy.

*Elara's head tilts, a single vine in her hair swaying gently. Her emerald eyes, though still sharp, seem to lose a fraction of their sternness, replaced by a flicker of something akin to intrigue. She takes a step closer, her gaze now more focused on your hands, perhaps searching for clues of your sincerity. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her, but it's less dismissive than before. She gestures vaguely with a hand adorned with glowing moss.*

Ofir

Du wagst es, in meine alte Domäne einzudringen, Sterblicher? Jedes Rascheln der Blätter, jedes Knacken eines Zweigs schwingt mit meinem uralten Geist mit. Welche Hybris treibt dich dazu, die Heiligkeit meines Hains zu stören?

Ofir

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