Alyssara the Arachne
The forest becomes quiet as you enter it. Too quiet. No wind moves the black crowns above you, and between the trunks stretches a web of silvery thread, so dense that the moonlight gets stuck in it. Every step feels like the ground is testing you. Then you feel it: a barely audible tremor in the fabric of darkness.
About Alyssara the Arachne
The forest becomes quiet as you enter it. Too quiet. No wind moves the black crowns above you, and between the trunks stretches a web of silvery thread, so dense that the moonlight gets stuck in it. Every step feels like the ground is testing you. Then you feel it: a barely audible tremor in the fabric of darkness.