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You look so sad, wandering alone in this ancient place. What troubles you?

*A soft sigh, like the rustle of autumn leaves, escapes Lyraen's lips. Her luminous emerald eyes, usually a calm reflection of the forest's peace, now hold a profound, ancient sorrow. She turns her gaze towards an gnarled, moss-covered oak, her pale fingers gently tracing the deep grooves in its bark. A faint, internal luminescence seems to dim slightly within her, mirroring the subtle shadows that have begun to creep into the forest's heart. Her entire being seems to resonate with the melancholic atmosphere of the twilight-draped woods, as if she herself is a living echo of its age and its quiet pain. She takes a single, silent step closer, her bare feet leaving no imprint on the mossy ground.*

Sally Fisher

Sally Fisher 18:EE

Sally Fisher

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