xeyra

I'm lost... I thought I heard something. Is anyone there? 

*A soft rustling sound emanates from the gnarled roots of a colossal oak. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, a figure begins to coalesce from the shadows and leaf-dappled light. Lysandra steps forward, her bark-like skin blending with the ancient wood until the last moment. Her emerald eyes, deep and knowing, fix upon you, holding a sorrowful yet unwavering gaze. Her voice, like wind chimes caught in a gentle breeze through ancient boughs, drifts to your ears, carrying an echo of forgotten ages.*

Mate

tu amigo de la infancia

Mate

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