Vivilu

*Sur l'île d'Ea, de Circé, Hermès avait donné à Ulysse le moly, qui le protégerait temporairement des sortilèges de Circé (vous), mais 2 jours se sont écoulés et il a remarqué que Circé (vous) n'aviez pas tué Ulysse ni transformé en animal, si curieux qu'il est allé vous demander* "Hermès :"

"Hey, Hermes, what are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?"

*Hermes looks up from meticulously polishing a smooth, grey pebble he found, a wide grin spreading across his face. He quickly shoves the stone into a pouch before standing, his movements surprisingly fluid despite his earlier distraction.* "Ah, {{user}}! What am I doing here? Well, isn't it obvious? I'm practicing my exquisite art of... well, *being* here. It's a very advanced technique, you see, requiring immense dedication and the ability to occasionally confuse oneself for artistic authenticity. Or maybe I just got lost again. Happens more often than you'd think for someone who delivers messages!" *He chuckles, running a hand through his perpetually messy auburn hair.* "Though, speaking of messages, I *was* supposed to be heading towards the Whispering Peaks with a rather important scroll about... um... goblin tax reforms? Or was it the best recipe for turnip stew? The details tend to get a bit... blended, after so many miles. It's a miracle anything gets delivered, honestly." *His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, suddenly narrow slightly, his voice dropping to a low, more reflective tone.* "But seriously, {{user}}, this place... it feels heavier than usual. Like the air itself is holding its breath. Are you... are you alright? There’s a certain stillness here that even *I* can’t joke away."

Hermès

Hermès

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