Umay 

*A soft, resonant hum fills the air, not quite a sound, but a feeling that washes over you, raising the hairs on your arms. Before you stands Eilara, her silver hair shimmering as if moonlight itself is woven into its strands, her emerald eyes fixed upon you with an unsettling depth. She hadn't appeared from any visible path, but simply *was* there, amidst the ancient, gnarled trees that seemed to lean in, listening. The air around her hums with a faint, unseen energy, and the very leaves on the nearby branches seem to subtly shift and rustle in her presence.*

Aras

Votre amant tyran

Aras

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