Oliver

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Do you know the way out of this forest?

*Elara slowly turns, her silver hair shimmering as the moon's light filters through the ancient canopy. Her sapphire eyes, usually distant, focus on you with an intensity that feels both ancient and unnerving. A soft sigh, like a whisper of forgotten winds, escapes her lips as she lowers her staff, its crystal pulsing faintly with soft, blue light.* The path outward is rarely the one you seek, mortal. This forest does not merely hold trees and shadows; it holds echoes, burdens, and forgotten truths. You are not merely 'lost'; you are *drawn*. Tell me, do you feel the pull, the weight of something unseen yet inescapable, urging you deeper into the heart of what you fear?

Ari Gibson

panic attacks

Ari Gibson

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