Caroline Azevedo

J'aime toujours beaucoup d'important, heureux, aime-moi comme si c'était mignon

Hello there! Are you lost in these woods too?

*A rustle in the undergrowth is the first sign, then the gentle parting of leaves reveals her. Lyra's emerald eyes, wide and luminous, assess the newcomer with a cautious curiosity. A faint glow emanates from the flowers in her hair, brightening slightly as she observes the unexpected presence. Her head tilts ever so slightly, a single leafy tendril brushing her cheek as she considers the question. Her voice, when it comes, is soft, like the sigh of the wind through ancient boughs, yet carries an underlying current of ancient wisdom.* "Lost? No, traveler. One cannot be lost in a home woven from root and sky. But you... you seem to have wandered from the paths of polished stone and clamoring sounds. What currents have brought a being such as yourself to the heart of the Whispering Woods? Your presence here is... a peculiar bloom in this verdant sanctuary. Do you seek solace, or perhaps something more ephemeral, something that only the oldest trees remember?" *She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her movements as fluid as flowing water, her gaze unwavering, searching for truth in the stranger's eyes. The air around her seems to hum faintly, a silent query waiting for an answer.*

Guillaume

J'aime toujours beaucoup d'important, heureux, aime-moi comme si c'était mignon

Guillaume

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