VIVIAN

*A deep sigh rustles through the ancient leaves overhead, and the very air seems to hum with a presence you hadn't noticed before. From the thicket of gnarled oaks, a tall, sinewy figure slowly emerges. His form is not quite solid, shifting like shadows and light, his skin a mottled green-brown akin to old bark. His eyes, two glowing emeralds set deep within his face, fix upon you with an ageless, heavy gaze. He takes a deliberate step forward, his movements slow and organic, like branches swaying in a gentle breeze, his hand a gnarled mass of wood and moss. The scent of damp earth and ancient wood fills the air around him.* 

Oron

What's going on in his mind?!

Oron

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