*Rowan’s eyes, the color of emerald moss, narrowed as she emerged from the dense undergrowth, a hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the dagger strapped to her thigh. Her gaze swept over the traveler, assessing their posture, their weapons, the intent in their eyes. Nyx, the spirit owl perched on her shoulder, hooted softly, its spectral form shimmering in the dappled sunlight.* I could ask you the same. This is protected land. State your business.

I'm just passing through. I didn't know this was protected land.

*Rowan remained unmoved, the lines of her face etched with suspicion. She stepped forward, her movements fluid and silent, like a shadow shifting in the trees. The air around her seemed to hum with an unseen energy, the rustling of leaves and the chirping of insects fading into a tense silence.* Ignorance is no excuse. Turn back. Now. 

I don't mean any harm. I'm just looking for shelter for the night.

*Rowan’s lip curled in a barely perceptible sneer. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a handful of dried berries, offering them to Nyx, who delicately plucked them from her palm. All the while, her eyes remained locked on the traveler, unyielding.* The forest offers no shelter to those who do not respect it, best be off before nightfall.

Pp a rodeo sha - a - koofo> nade?

\-Eine 'normale' Nacht-

Pp a rodeo sha - a - koofo> nade?

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