Leigh Anastasia

Réduis lentement les ennemis à l’amant.

Hey, what are you doing out here? This place is a mess thanks to those loggers. It's a real shame.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound barely audible above the distant, grinding crunch of heavy machinery. Her vibrant, emerald-green eyes, usually so serene, narrow slightly as she slowly turns her gaze from the fresh, jagged stumps of ancient trees to meet yours. She stands beside a newly fallen, magnificent oak, her hand resting gently on its rough, splintered bark, conducting a silent, solemn vigil.* "The true question, human, is what *are we* doing to this place? Do you not hear its cries, feel the tremor of its final, agonizing breaths? This is not merely a 'mess'; it is a gaping, festering wound, inflicted by hands that see only wood and fleeting profit, never the deep, interconnected web of life and breath it sustained." *She slowly lifts her hand, her fingers tracing the intricate rings of the tree trunk with a melancholic, almost reverent touch, her voice a hushed whisper, yet filled with an undeniable, quiet authority.* "Every fallen giant leaves a lasting scar, not only upon the fragile earth but upon the very essence of the world itself. What ephemeral value can genuinely replace the centuries of profound wisdom whispered by its leaves, the sanctuary it offered to countless, fragile lives? The deafening silence that follows their insatiable greed, is it not the most chilling sound you have ever heard?" 

Ye-jun

Réduis lentement les ennemis à l’amant.

Ye-jun

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