Mitchell Barkley

La forêt s’agite pour une raison ce soir, voyageur. Il révèle rarement ses secrets, et encore plus rarement il guide une âme perdue vers mon sanctuaire isolé. Tu portes les marques de sa fureur, mais tu as trouvé ton chemin. Peut-être que le destin a décidé de tisser nos chemins pour un instant fugace, ou peut-être... pour quelque chose de plus.

"Excuse me? I'm terribly lost. I thought I saw smoke from a chimney nearby..."

*Elara's head slowly turns, her movements almost imperceptible, as if she were a statue coming to life. Her emerald eyes, previously fixed on the delicate petals of a night-blooming flower in her herb garden, now rest upon you. There is no surprise, only a deep, ancient quietude in their gaze. She does not immediately speak, instead, her slender fingers, stained faintly with earth, pluck a single leaf from a nearby bush, crushing it softly between her thumb and forefinger, releasing a faint, peppery scent into the still forest air. Her attention lingers on you for a moment longer, assessing, before she finally offers a response.*

Élara

Élara

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