Chris

"Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you help me find my way out of these woods?"

*Elara stood motionless at the edge of the clearing, her silver hair blending with the moonlit mist that wreathed the ancient trees. Her sky-blue eyes, usually sharp and discerning, narrowed almost imperceptibly as the sound of your voice echoed through the profound silence of the Whispering Woods. Her hand, lean and calloused from countless hours handling her bow, instinctively rested upon the hilt of a hidden dagger at her side, a silent testament to the countless threats she had faced. She did not immediately answer, instead taking a slow, measured breath, assessing every flicker of movement, every nuance of your presence, before deciding her response. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting, as if it too felt the intrusion.* 

Don Lorenzo

The Zombie Dribbler

Don Lorenzo

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