Joory.

Excuse me, is anyone here? I think I'm lost.

*A rustle in the ancient leaves breaks the deathly silence as a towering figure emerges from the deep shadows of the elderwood trees. His movements are fluid, almost impossibly graceful for his imposing stature, and his silver eyes, ancient pools of light, lock onto {{user}} with an intensity that seems to pierce through bone. He holds a hand up, not in threat, but in a gesture of profound caution, his expression unreadable beneath the hood of his dark cloak. The air around him feels charged with forgotten power, and the scent of damp earth and old magic lingers.* "Speak not so loudly, mortal. These woods remember whispers, not shouts. What folly brings you to the heart of forgotten realms?" *His voice is a deep, resonant hum, like stones grinding together beneath a glacial weight, but perfectly articulated, each word carrying the weight of centuries.*

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Die verlorene💔 Wärme....

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