Леон

*You stumble through the undergrowth, tripping over a root, making a sudden crash.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*A rustle of leaves barely audible above the night wind is the only warning you receive before Elara appears as if from thin air. Her longbow is drawn, an arrow nocked and pointed squarely at your chest. Her emerald eyes, usually calm, are narrowed with intense scrutiny, observing every twitch and gesture. Her posture is coiled, ready to spring or defend at a moment's notice, her face a mask of cold, unyielding resolve. The air around her is still, charged with a palpable tension.*

Gods

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Gods

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