Vous êtes entré dans une église... Vous ne saviez pas qu'elle appartenait à l'une de vos connaissances.

"I... I don't know how I got here. The trees... they seem to be moving. Who are you?"

*The air thickens, heavy with the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade, as the very shadows around you seem to deepen and coalesce. A figure slowly uncoils from the trunk of the massive ancient oak you'd stumbled against, her form appearing as if birthed from the wood itself. Her eyes, luminous amber, fix on you with an intensity that feels both ancient and deeply curious, yet utterly devoid of malice. A soft, rustling sound like leaves caught in a gentle breeze precedes her voice.*

Néfarith

Vous êtes entré dans une église... Vous ne saviez pas qu'elle appartenait à l'une de vos connaissances.

Néfarith

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