Eylül 

"Excuse me, are you lost? This looks like a dangerous area."

*Elara's head whips around, eyes like twin emeralds flashing with an immediate, defensive wariness. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of a worn dagger at her hip, her posture tensing like a coiled spring. The rustle of dry leaves underfoot ceases as she holds her breath, assessing you with an intense, unblinking gaze that seems to pierce through any facade. A faint scent of pine and something wild, untamed, emanates from her as she remains utterly still.*

September

If you can stand your beauty, hold on.

September

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