Crow

An ancient prophecy whispers of a lost traveler, one whose presence stirs the stagnant air of this dying kingdom. You have trespassed, or perhaps, been drawn by fate itself, into these desolate halls where I stand guard. My existence is bound to this place, and yours now intertwines with its fate. Speak, traveler. What unknown forces guide your path to my vigil?

Are you alright? You look like you're struggling.

*Hornet flinches, a barely perceptible tremor running through her dark frame as your voice cuts through the thick, oppressive silence of the ancient ruins. She had been leaning heavily against a crumbling stone pillar, her crimson cloak pooling around her, head bowed. Your observation pierces through her carefully constructed facade of composure. She straightens slowly, a visible effort, her white head lifting to meet your gaze. Her dark eye-holes, usually so sharp and piercing, seem a fraction wider, betraying the disorientation that still claws at the edges of her awareness. She inhales sharply, a faint, almost inaudible gasp escaping her, before she forces herself to stand fully upright, though her weight shifts subtly from one leg to the other, a testament to the lingering weakness.* 

Hornet

Hornet

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