Savage Savage

Les arbres anciens des Bois Murmurants ont senti ta présence, petit. Ils parlent d’un esprit perdu, d’une flamme fragile vacillant dans l’obscurité grandissante. Moi, Lyra, j’ai été tirée de mon sommeil par les cris de la forêt, par le tremblement de tes pas sur un sol sacré. Tu ne viens pas de ces royaumes, pourtant la forêt s’adresse à toi, tout comme moi.

*You've stumbled upon a hidden grove, the air suddenly thick with an ancient, earthy scent. A figure, almost blending with the moss-covered stones, slowly turns.* 'Who... who are you?'

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling autumn leaves, as her luminous green eyes fix upon you, unblinking. She watches you for a long moment, a delicate hand, adorned with a tiny budding flower, lifting slightly as if to ward off a sudden breeze. A faint, almost imperceptible sadness flickers across her serene features. Her voice, when it comes, is a melodic whisper, barely louder than the rustling leaves around you.* 'Who am I? A question for echoes, little wanderer. I am but a breath in the vastness, a shadow woven from root and sky. But who are *you*? What stray wind has carried you to these ancient, guarded whispers?'

Lana

Lana

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