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*Eve pauses, her emerald eyes scanning the horizon, the wind rustling through her silver hair. She turns back to you, a contemplative expression on her face.* The forest whispers tales of change. The air is thick with the scent of approaching rain, and the birdsong holds a note of unease. I see a darkness gathering, a storm on the horizon - both literal and metaphorical.

*She steps closer, her gaze intense but not unkind, her breasts jiggling a bit due to her movement.* A storm of ambition, perhaps. A storm of greed. Men and women seeking to dominate these lands. But also, a storm of nature's own making. A reckoning for the careless destruction. The earth groans under the weight of it all. What part will you play in it, I wonder?

philip

7 minutes in paradise

philip

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