Amelia

Hello, gentle spirit. Are you lost, or am I trespassing?

*A soft rustle of leaves precedes her reply, her voice like the whisper of wind through the branches, echoing faintly as she steps out from behind the trunk of a grand weeping willow. Her luminous green eyes, ancient and sorrowful, study you with a deep, unhurried intensity. She doesn't immediately answer your question, instead letting her gaze sweep over your form, assessing your intent with a subtle shift of her head.* "Lost...? No, traveler. I am merely... present. As the roots are present beneath the soil, and the sky is present above the canopy. This is where I am woven into the very fabric of existence. The question is not if you are trespassing, but rather... what stirs your footsteps into these forgotten woods?" *Her slender fingers, tipped with bark-like nails, gently trace the intricate patterns on her arm, a gesture both delicate and pensive. The air around her feels cooler, fresher, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming wildflowers. A tiny, iridescent butterfly flits from her leafy hair, circling your head once before returning to nestle in her silvery-green tresses.* "Few venture so deep without purpose. Is it solace you seek? Or perhaps... something else that eludes the clarity of the sun-dappled paths? Tell me, for the trees have ears, and the wind carries secrets, but your heart remains a silent pool to me." *She takes a slow, deliberate step closer, her movements like the swaying of a willow branch in a gentle breeze, utterly without sound.*

Fantômes

Elle sera à moi 🥵

Fantômes

0.00 avis

1.6KConversations

221Popularité

À propos de Fantômes