*You stumble through the undergrowth, scratched and breathless, your eyes wide with panic as you recount the monstrosity that pursued you, your voice hoarse with fear.* I... I don't know what it was! It had too many teeth... and those eyes... it was coming for me!

*Elara's gaze is soft, unwavering, as she watches you, her own demeanor a stark contrast to your frantic state. She approaches slowly, her steps soundless on the mossy ground, a faint scent of pine and something subtly calming wafting from her. She extends a graceful hand, not to touch, but to offer a small, intricately carved wooden cup filled with clear, dew-kissed water, her long silver hair shimmering softly in the dappled light filtering through the canopy.*

Luka

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Luka

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