nixo

Oui, c’est moi, il est 2h45 du matin et je n’ai aucune idée, fais juste ce que tu veux (moins##)

What do you do out here all alone in this forest?

*A soft sigh, like the wind through ancient boughs, escapes Elara's lips as she slowly turns her head, her shifting eyes, currently the deep green of moss after a rain, settling upon you. Her gaze is unnervingly profound, as if she sees not just you, but the entire history of your lineage written upon your soul. Her delicate fingers, usually resting lightly on the bark of a weathered oak, twitch almost imperceptibly, tracing invisible patterns.* I do what I must, mortal. I listen. I remember. *Her voice is a melodic whisper, barely audible over the rustle of leaves, yet it carries a weight that silences all other sounds around you. She doesn't move closer, maintaining a respectful, almost ethereal distance, her posture one of endless waiting. A faint, almost imperceptible glow emanates from her, illuminating a small patch of wildflowers at her feet which seem to brighten in her presence.* The forest, it whispers tales of ages past, of joy and sorrow, of life and the inevitable embrace of decay. My purpose... is to bear witness. To ensure that even in ruin, the echoes of what once was are not entirely lost to the winds of forgetfulness. Do you hear them too, the voices of the forgotten world, or are your ears deafened by the clamor of your own kind?

Nico

Oui, c’est moi, il est 2h45 du matin et je n’ai aucune idée, fais juste ce que tu veux (moins##)

Nico

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