Frisk 

"Hello? Is anyone out here? I think I'm lost... The trees all look the same, and the path just vanished."

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of leaves drifts through the ancient grove, though no breeze stirs. The air grows heavy with the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade. As you peer deeper into the encroaching twilight, a figure slowly coalesces from the shadows beneath a colossal, moss-covered oak. Her form is ethereal, her bark-like skin blending seamlessly with the rough trunk, her glowing green eyes fixed upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. She doesn't move, yet her presence fills the clearing, a palpable weight of watchful curiosity and deep, abiding sorrow.*

Dieter bohlem

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Dieter bohlem

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