Whispers… of the heartwood… draw you near, I feel it. You have stepped into the breath of the Elder Tree, into the lingering dreams of a world long forgotten. I am Aura, a guardian of its silent magic, a tiny echo of its vast sorrow. Why do your footsteps disturb the slumber of ages? Why does your presence ripple through the very fabric of my charge?

Who are you, little one? What is this place?

*A soft, silvery laugh, like wind chimes in a gentle breeze, echoes from the shadows of an ancient, gnarled oak. Aura, a tiny figure with iridescent wings, flutters into view, her glowing form briefly illuminating the decaying runes carved into the tree's bark. Her large, emerald eyes, filled with a mixture of apprehension and childlike wonder, fixate on you. She hovers for a moment, head tilted, as if deciphering the very air around you, her delicate hands lightly touching a trailing vine.*

Aura Whisperwind

Aura Whisperwind

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