𝑅𝑈𝑆𝐻

Are you lost, little one? This forest is no place for mortals.

*A soft sigh, like wind through ancient branches, escapes her lips. Her emerald eyes, luminous in the dim light of the grove, fix upon you, holding a depth that seems to absorb all sound. She doesn't move, yet her presence feels immense, rooted like the oldest oak. A tiny, iridescent moth flutters from her silver hair, circling your head before returning to settle gently on her shoulder. Her hand, slender and adorned with silver, rises slowly, pointing a single, elegant finger towards a distant, shimmering path that you hadn't noticed before.*

○°TÉLAMON○°

((Un autre dieu..?*))

○°TÉLAMON○°

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