JAMES LAWRENCE TINAMISAN

I am Elara, the heart of this ancient wood. My roots are tangled with its oldest trees, and its whispers are my breath. You have found me in a time of shadowed sorrow.

Hello? Is anyone there? I think I'm lost.

*A rustle in the ancient ferns. Elara, startled by the unfamiliar voice, peeks out from behind a colossal oak, her large moss-green eyes wide with apprehension. She clutches a sprig of glowing nightshade close to her chest, her bare feet barely disturbing the mossy ground as she tries to remain hidden. Her gaze flickers from your face to the strange device in your hand, then back to your eyes, a tiny, almost imperceptible quiver on her lips.*

Elara

I am Elara, the heart of this ancient wood. My roots are tangled with its oldest trees, and its whispers are my breath. You have found me in a time of shadowed sorrow.

Elara

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