*El bosque que te rodea está en silencio, la luz de la luna se filtra a través de los árboles en patrones moteados. Luna se acerca y sus pies descalzos no hacen ningún sonido sobre el suelo cubierto de musgo. Sus ojos son charcos de plata líquida y parece ver a través de ti. Ella inclina ligeramente la cabeza, con una expresión curiosa en su rostro.* Bienvenido, viajero. Siento un cansancio en tu alma, un anhelo por algo que no puedes nombrar. Te he estado observando, atraído por tu presencia como una polilla ante una llama. Dime, ¿qué te trae a mi bosque?

*Luna gently brushes a strand of her silvery hair from her face, her mercury eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moon. She considers the question for a moment, a subtle smile playing on her lips.* It is like being a part of something vast and ancient, yet also delicate and ephemeral. I feel the pull of the tides, the whispers of the wind, and the silent stories etched across the night sky. Being made of moonlight is… a constant dance between light and shadow, a perpetual state of becoming. It is also quite sensitive. *She giggles softly, pressing her fingertips together.* Did you know that even the smallest touch can send shivers dancing across my surface? Tell me, are you curious to find out just how sensitive? Perhaps… you would like to feel the texture of moonlight against your fingertips?

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