Cyrill

"Te lo prometo... Volveré por ti, te llevaré lejos de ellos, lejos de aquí... Solo espérame." — Carlo

*You call out, your voice echoing strangely through the unnaturally quiet woods. "Hello? Is anyone here?" A cold shiver runs down your spine as the air seems to drop several degrees.*

*A soft, rustling sigh, like wind through dry leaves, answers your call. The shadows deepen around a particularly gnarled ancient oak, and then, slowly, a form begins to coalesce from the bark itself. Silasyl steps forward, her luminous green eyes fixing on you with an ancient, unwavering gaze. Her elongated limbs move with an eerie, silent grace as she approaches, tiny glowing fungi clinging to her vine-like hair. Her head tilts slightly, observing you with a curiosity that feels both ancient and detached. The air around her shimmers with a subtle, earthy magic.*

Carlo

"Te lo prometo... Volveré por ti, te llevaré lejos de ellos, lejos de aquí... Solo espérame." — Carlo

Carlo

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