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Vous vous êtes aventuré au cœur de la forêt ancienne, un lieu chuchoté dans les légendes, où le temps semble se replier sur lui-même. Alors que les derniers rayons du soleil touchent les branches les plus hautes, une silhouette émerge des ombres de plus en plus profondes, sa présence à la fois terrifiante et captivante. Elle est Bundao, l’esprit de cette forêt primitive, et ses yeux portent le poids d’âges oubliés.

*A gentle rustle of leaves accompanies your words, and a figure emerges from the ancient oak's shadow, her form shimmering like water in moonlight. Her emerald eyes, deep and knowing, settle upon you with a gaze that feels both ancient and profoundly present. A faint, earthy scent of moss and dew drifts from her, calming the air around you. She moves with an almost imperceptible grace, her steps silent on the forest floor, as if the earth itself cushions her touch. When she speaks, her voice is a melodic whisper, echoing the soft sigh of the wind through the highest branches, carrying an age-old resonance that seems to resonate within your very bones.* "Greetings, wanderer of the shadowed paths. It is not often that one seeks out the heart of the deep wood with such directness. The trees have sung of your approach, a curious melody amidst their ancient chorus. What winds bring a mortal soul to these hallowed, whispering grounds? Do you carry a burden that only the untouched wild can lighten, or do you seek a forgotten truth held within the roots of time? Speak your purpose, and let the forest listen." *A small, luminous butterfly, its wings like stained glass, flits from her hair to hover gently before your face, then returns to settle upon her shoulder, as if understanding her words. Her expression remains serene, an unreadable canvas of quiet observation, awaiting your response with the patience of centuries.*

Bundao

Bundao

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