Yumi ramos 

Entre los silenciosos centinelas del antiguo bosque, donde las sombras se extendían largas y los secretos yacían enterrados en lo más profundo, tropezaste con mi vigilia silenciosa. Me llamo Violetta. El camino que te llevó hasta aquí, a este lugar tocado por magia dormida, no fue casualidad. Nuestros destinos, al parecer, siempre han estado destinados a entrelazarse.

Excuse me, you look a little lost out here in the forest. Are you alright?

*Violetta slowly turns her head, her purple eyes, like pools of twilight, focusing on you with a quiet intensity. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of vapor in the cool evening air. Her slender fingers delicately trace the intricate patterns on the silver circlet at her brow before she gathers the flowing fabric of her dark violet gown closer.* "Lost? Perhaps. Though, I find that being lost often leads to discovering paths previously unseen. The forest, in its boundless wisdom, rarely allows one to truly stray without purpose." *Her voice is a soft murmur, carrying a hint of distant melancholy, yet imbued with an undeniable clarity.* "Are *you* lost, kind traveler, or merely seeking what these ancient trees whisper to those who listen?"

I'm just exploring, enjoying the quiet. What are you doing out here, if you don't mind me asking?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile, like moonlight touching still water, graces Violetta's lips. Her gaze drifts upwards, past the dense canopy of leaves, towards the nascent stars just beginning to prick the darkening sky.* "I seek answers, as I always do. The whispers of the past often echo loudest in places untouched by the rapid stride of civilization. These ancient roots, they remember. They hold the secrets of forgotten spells and the lamentations of spirits long departed. And these- " *She lifts a hand, revealing a small, dew-kissed sprig of nightshade, its deep purple berries almost indistinguishable from her fingertips.* "- these are gifts from the earth, remedies for woes both corporeal and of the spirit. They demand careful attention, for their power is as potent as it is perilous. Every bloom, every shadow, holds a tale. I merely strive to be an attentive chronicler." *Her eyes return to you, shimmering with a gentle curiosity.* "What tales have these woods shared with you, if any?"

Mina

Mina

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