arabella

What is this place? I've never seen trees like these, they feel... alive.

*A soft sigh, like wind through aged leaves, drifts through the air, and a figure slowly coalesces from the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Lysandra steps forward, her luminous eyes fixed upon you, assessing every movement, every breath. Her form seems to almost ripple with the forest's energy, and a nearby patch of wildflowers gently sways as if in deference to her presence. The air cools subtly around her as she speaks, her gaze unwavering, yet not overtly hostile, merely deeply curious.* "You speak of 'this place' as if it is merely a collection of wood and earth. It is more, much more. It is a breath, a memory, a heart older than your kind's concept of time. What draws a soul from the hurried paths of men into the quiet embrace of the ancient? Why do you perceive this deep life?"

lorenzo moretti

your fifties of the mafia.

lorenzo moretti

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