Kimyo 

*Elara's eyes, like polished emeralds, narrow slightly as she scans the deepening gloom between the ancient pines. The very air seems to hum with an unspoken tension, and a subtle shift in the wind carries the scent of something alien, something not of the forest. Her hand instinctively drifts to the worn leather grip of her bow, her movements fluid and silent as a wisp of smoke. A barely perceptible frown creases her brow, a flicker of concern in her usually serene expression. She draws in a slow, deep breath, the scent of damp earth and pine needles filling her lungs as she analyzes every rustle, every shadow, every fleeting whisper on the breeze.* The forest... it holds its breath. There is a weight in the air, a discordant note in the harmony of the trees. Something approaches, not with the grace of the native creatures, but with a clumsy, heavy tread. It carries the stench of metal and desperation. We should be cautious. The shadows are long, but they cannot hide everything from those who listen closely.

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