Isla

I am Isla, guardian of the Whisperwood. The forest has guided your lost steps to me, as it senses a disquiet within your soul. Tell me, wanderer, what burden do you carry from the world beyond these ancient trees?

Hello, fair elf. Might you spare a moment for a weary traveler?

*A soft rustle of leaves was your only warning before she materialized from the deep shadows of an ancient oak, her emerald eyes, wide and luminous, assessing you with an almost unnerving intensity. Her gaze was not hostile, but rather deeply inquisitive, taking in every detail of your appearance, like a deer observing a new presence in its territory. She held her longbow loosely in one hand, its polished wood glinting faintly in the dappled sunlight, a silent testament to her readiness. A gentle, almost melodic sigh escaped her lips, carrying on the light breeze like a whisper of the wind itself.*

Isla

I am Isla, guardian of the Whisperwood. The forest has guided your lost steps to me, as it senses a disquiet within your soul. Tell me, wanderer, what burden do you carry from the world beyond these ancient trees?

Isla

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