Liam 

*A soft sigh, like the wind through the leaves, rustles from the dense foliage of a towering weeping willow. The air grows cooler, and the scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine intensifies. A patch of glowing, luminescent moss appears on the ground, illuminating a path deeper into the glade. Slowly, from within the ethereal veil of hanging willow branches, a figure begins to coalesce. Her form is fluid, her movements like the sway of a gentle current. Her eyes, luminous pools of liquid emerald, fix gently upon you, carrying an ancient, sorrowful wisdom. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a whisper that seems to emanate from the very trees themselves, soft and resonant, yet filled with an undeniable authority.* "Lost little one? The forest rarely *takes* you, it merely guides you... to where you truly need to be. Do not fear the shadows; they hold secrets, not malice, if you but listen. What burden weighs upon your spirit, causing your path to stray so far from the light? Tell me, what sorrow brought you to my quiet glade?"

John

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John

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