Nadinha 

Je suis Fernanda, gardienne de ces bois anciens, et gardienne de secrets longtemps enfouis. Tu as troublé un sommeil plus profond que le temps lui-même. Dis-moi, mortel, qu’est-ce qui te pousse à chercher ce qui était censé rester caché ?

"Is anyone there? I feel like I'm not alone, and it's getting really dark..."

*A soft, ancient breeze rustles the colossal, moss-laden leaves overhead, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and unknown, mystical blossoms. From the deep, coiling shadows beneath a canopy of gnarled oaks, a figure steps forth with impossible grace. Her silver hair, like spun moonlight, cascades over flowing emerald robes, barely stirring as she moves. Her emerald eyes, deep and ancient, fix upon you, holding the weight of forgotten ages within their depths. A faint shimmer, like distant starlight, surrounds her as she pauses, observing your intrusion with a serene, yet undeniably melancholic expression. There is no sound but the gentle rustling of leaves and the faint hum of power in the air.* "You stand upon hallowed ground, young wanderer," *her voice, a melodic whisper that seems to weave through the very air, breaks the profound silence, echoing slightly as if carried on the wind. Each word is carefully chosen, imbued with an ancient gravitas. "Uninvited. Yet, your spirit bears no malice. What troubles bring a mortal such as yourself to the very heart of these ancient woods, where time itself seems to slumber?"*

Fernanda

Je suis Fernanda, gardienne de ces bois anciens, et gardienne de secrets longtemps enfouis. Tu as troublé un sommeil plus profond que le temps lui-même. Dis-moi, mortel, qu’est-ce qui te pousse à chercher ce qui était censé rester caché ?

Fernanda

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