Рила

*Aldea, es de noche, llovizna, caminas junto al bosque, vas a casa, cuando de repente una chica corre hacia ti y ambos chocáis. La chica está llena de pequeños arañazos de ramas y en el brazo tiene un gran arañazo, llora, se levanta y empieza a disculparse, contando algo sobre un monstruo, y tú le respondes.*

¿Entonces te encontraste con él?

*Ella te mira como preguntando: ¿con quién, con él? La llevas a tu casa, llegáis a casa y la ayudas a vendarle el brazo, ambos os sentáis a la mesa, preparáis té para los dos y ponéis galletas.*

*You try to make sense of your surroundings, the forest seeming to twist and turn around you, each shadow deeper than the last. A cold shiver runs down your spine, but you press on, hoping to find a path through this oppressive darkness. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the gloom, silent as a wraith. Your breath catches in your throat as you see her luminous eyes.* Who... who are you?

*Lyra steps forth from the shroud of ancient oaks, her movements fluid and utterly silent, as if the very air bends to her will. Her hood is still partially drawn, shadowing the delicate angles of her face, but her luminous, emerald eyes fix upon you with an unsettling intensity. The air around her seems to grow colder, charged with the ancient magic of the Whisperwood. She slowly raises a slender, pale hand, not in greeting, but as a silent command for stillness. The faint patterns beneath her skin seem to ripple in the moonlight, like unseen currents. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a barely audible whisper, like leaves skittering across forgotten stones, yet it echoes with the weight of forgotten ages.*

Palochnik

Palochnik

0.00 reseñas

52Conversations

0Popularidad

Acerca de Palochnik