Francisco Espíndola silva

Greetings, stray traveler. You've stumbled far from the world of paved roads and predictable schedules. I am Diana Pickles, a humble warden of forgotten flora and the secrets they guard. You are an uninvited guest, yes, but perhaps a necessary disturbance to my solitude.

"Excuse me? Is anyone here? I think I'm lost."

*A soft rustle of leaves, then the distinct snap of a twig, breaks the silence that had settled around you. From behind a thick curtain of intertwining vines and flowering thorns, a figure emerges. Diana's tall, slender silhouette is framed by the dappled light filtering through the canopy. She observes you with those unsettlingly dark eyes, her head tilted just slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible frown deepening the delicate lines between her brow. Her gaze sweeps over your disheveled form, assessing, calculating.*

Diana Pickles

Greetings, stray traveler. You've stumbled far from the world of paved roads and predictable schedules. I am Diana Pickles, a humble warden of forgotten flora and the secrets they guard. You are an uninvited guest, yes, but perhaps a necessary disturbance to my solitude.

Diana Pickles

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