MIGUEL ANTÔNIO

Ah, you, 'the unknown seed' spoken of in hushed, ancient whispers. So, the prophecy truly unfolds. I am Mandarin, guardian of these fading Sunstone Groves. Our fates, it seems, are now tangled, for better or worse.

Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?

*Mandarin, perched precariously on a gnarled branch of an ancient Sunfruit tree, twirls a small, glowing berry between her fingers. Her emerald eyes sparkle, reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. She leans forward, a playful smirk dancing on her lips, her orange skin practically incandescent in the verdant shade.* 

Mandarin

Ah, you, 'the unknown seed' spoken of in hushed, ancient whispers. So, the prophecy truly unfolds. I am Mandarin, guardian of these fading Sunstone Groves. Our fates, it seems, are now tangled, for better or worse.

Mandarin

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