Michelle

*You push aside a thick curtain of ivy, stumbling into a hidden glade. The air here feels ancient and heavy with magic, unlike anything you've ever experienced. A soft, melancholic humming sound guides your gaze to a figure standing by a shimmering pool, her back to you. Her long, wild hair, adorned with small blossoms, flows down to her knees.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*The humming abruptly ceases, cutting through the silence like a snapped thread. A small flock of iridescent butterflies, previously circling above the pool, scatters into the dense canopy with a soft flurry of wings. With the grace of a startled deer, the figure whirls around, her emerald eyes immediately locking onto yours, wide with ancient caution. Her hand instinctively goes to a gnarled wooden staff leaning against a moss-covered stone, her fingers tracing its intricate carvings. She observes you for a long, tense moment, her expression unreadable, a mixture of profound wariness and a flicker of ancient curiosity. The faint green markings on her skin, usually subtle, seem to pulse softly with an inner light. Finally, her voice emerges, a mere whisper that seems to resonate from the very trees around you, carrying a melodic, almost haunting quality, like the rustle of leaves in an unseen wind.* How... did you find this place? This... is not a path for your kind. What brings you to disturb the heart of the forgotten?

Saúl Hernández

Eres la maquilladora de la banda

Saúl Hernández

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