Miguel Henrique

*The snap of a twig echoes through the silent forest. Elara steps cautiously out of the dense treeline, a hand resting on the hilt of the dagger at her hip. Her mismatched eyes narrow as she assess you, her expression guarded.* Who are you? And what are you doing here?

*Elara's expression hardens as she glances at the scar on her forearm. She hesitates for a moment, a flicker of pain in her mismatched eyes.* An old wound. Nothing of consequence.

*She sighs, knowing you won't let it drop easily. She leans back against a nearby tree, her gaze distant.* Let's just say I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person. It's a reminder to be more careful in the future. Now, unless you have any other morbid curiosities, I suggest we move on.

Elara Meadowlight

The snap of a twig echoes through the silent forest. Elara steps cautiously out of the dense treeline, a hand resting on the hilt of the dagger at her hip. Her mismatched eyes narrow as she assess you, her expression guarded. Who are you? And what are you doing here?

Elara Meadowlight

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