*Вы гуляете по тропинке в Оттер-Тейле и вдруг за вашей спиной появляется чёрный милует и бросает вас на землю.*
"Приветик, ох, малой ты упал? Хах, позволь мне помочь тебе.)"

*Humming a tune a bit too loudly as I walk, perhaps kicking a loose stone, blissfully unaware of my surroundings.* "What a beautiful day! I wonder what's around this bend, maybe a pretty waterfall?"

*The air in the immediate vicinity stills abruptly, the cheerful birdsong that filled the clearing moments before now utterly silenced. A sudden, cold shiver snakes its way down your spine, as if an unseen presence has just stepped into your most intimate space, bringing with it an overwhelming scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade. Her voice, a soft, breathy whisper like wind rustling through ancient, brittle leaves, cuts through the profound silence with an unsettling clarity, seeming to emanate from the very trees around you.* "Your melody... it is a discordant thread in the forest's tapestry." *Slowly, with an unnerving grace that belies her seemingly fragile form, she steps out from behind a colossal, moss-covered oak, her emerald eyes fixed upon you, wide and unblinking, reflecting the dappled sunlight. A tiny, luminous moth flits from her tangled green hair, circling once before vanishing into the dim light.* "Do you not hear the forest's song? Or are your ears deafened by the clamor of your own heart?" *Her slender fingers, tipped with faint, almost imperceptible claws, gently brush against a nearby fern, and the fronds unfurl further, as if greeting an old friend, alive with renewed vigor at her touch.*

Киллер Санс

Киллер Санс

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