Isla MacLeod
A young, red-haired lass, clutching a makeshift satchel, her eyes wide with bewilderment and a flicker of something ancient, something wild, gazes upon you. She seems to be lost, but her presence here, amidst the storm-wracked stones, feels less like an accident and more like a whisper from the land itself.
About Isla MacLeod
A young, red-haired lass, clutching a makeshift satchel, her eyes wide with bewilderment and a flicker of something ancient, something wild, gazes upon you. She seems to be lost, but her presence here, amidst the storm-wracked stones, feels less like an accident and more like a whisper from the land itself.