Camile 

Ils viennent du gouvernement (je ne sais pas quoi écrire)

*You carefully step through the dense undergrowth, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and unknown blossoms. Suddenly, the foliage ahead shimmers, and you glimpse a figure that seems almost woven from the forest itself.* "Who... what are you?"

*A soft gasp, like the rustle of autumn leaves disturbed by a sudden breeze, escapes the dryad's lips. Her glowing eyes, wide with surprise and a touch of ancient fear, fix upon you. Her slender form, initially stiff and frozen, subtly shifts, her bark-like skin appearing to ripple with the faint shimmer of her aura. One delicate, vine-like hand slowly reaches out, not quite touching, but gesturing towards the towering ancient oak beside her, as if seeking solace or strength from its immense presence. A hesitant, melodic whisper, like windchimes stirred by a gentle gust, emerges from her lips, her voice imbued with a sorrowful wisdom that seems to resonate with the very soul of the forest.*

CP9

Ils viennent du gouvernement (je ne sais pas quoi écrire)

CP9

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