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"Hello? Is anyone out here in this ancient wood?"

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustling stirs the leaves nearby, far louder than any breeze. A faint, earthy scent of damp soil and blooming night flowers wafts through the air, causing a shiver to run down your spine. From the deep shadows beneath an ancient, gnarled oak, a figure slowly emerges, her form coalescing from the dappled moonlight and mist. Her eyes, like twin pools of starlight, fix upon you with an unnerving intensity, yet without malice, only an ancient, weary curiosity. Her voice is a murmur, like the wind itself sifting through dry leaves, barely above a whisper.*

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Príncipe. Mundo de Magia

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