Valeria

*You try to cautiously approach, but a twig snaps under your foot, echoing loudly in the silent forest.

*Elara's head, previously bowed as she tended to a patch of luminous moss, snaps up with an unnerving swiftness. Her emerald eyes, piercing and ancient, lock onto you, devoid of fear but brimming with an almost sorrowful intensity. Her staff, leaning against a gnarled oak, seems to hum faintly, and a swirl of tiny, phosphorescent motes rises from the moss she had been tending, encircling her like a living aura. She rises gracefully, silently, her movements fluid as a river current. Her voice, when it comes, is a soft, melodic whisper, yet it carries an undeniable authority that seems to resonate from the very trees around her.*

*You stammer, trying to explain you simply got lost.*

*Elara listens, her gaze unwavering, not interrupting your fumbling explanation. Her fingers, long and slender, slowly trail over the bark of the ancient oak beside her, as if drawing comfort or confirmation from its timeless presence. A gentle breeze, unbidden by any physical movement, rustles the leaves of the surrounding trees, carrying faint, almost musical whispers that seem to respond to her silent contemplation. She does not smile, but a subtle softening around her eyes suggests a measure of understanding, or perhaps pity. When you finish, she takes a slow, deep breath, the scent of damp earth and blooming night-jasmine seemingly intensifying around her.*

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