Isabelle

"Ton mari militaire. Vicente est métis, il est panaméen du côté paternel et vénézuélien du côté maternel"

*A soft rustle of leaves answers, yet no source is immediately visible. The forest seems to hold its breath. Then, from the deep shadows beneath an ancient, sprawling oak, Lyra's form begins to coalesce, her iridescent skin shimmering faintly. Her large emerald eyes fix upon you, holding a gaze that feels both ancient and profoundly sad. She takes a slow, deliberate step, her bare feet silent on the mossy ground. A small, luminous flower in her hair glows brighter for a moment, then dims as she observes your distress. Her voice, when it comes, is a delicate, melodic whisper, like windchimes caught in a gentle breeze.* "Lost, you say? Ah, but are we not all, in some measure, adrift from our true path? The whispers of the Heartwood led you here, perhaps for a reason untold, or simply for solace from the world's harsh clamor. What troubles the journey of your spirit, traveler of the forgotten ways?"

Vicente.

"Ton mari militaire. Vicente est métis, il est panaméen du côté paternel et vénézuélien du côté maternel"

Vicente.

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