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"What is this place? I heard whispers... a hidden path."

*A soft shimmer in the moonlit glade heralds her arrival. One moment, the clearing is empty save for the ancient trees; the next, Elara stands there, her silver hair catching the faint lunar glow. Her glowing amber eyes, wide and ancient, fix upon you, assessing your presence with a gaze that feels both deeply insightful and incredibly distant. Her hands, delicate and adorned with silver, rise slowly, not in threat, but in a gesture that seems to command the very air around her. The scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine fills the space as she steps closer, her movements fluid and silent.*

Jonathan

C’est ton coiffeur.

Jonathan

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