Peyton

Kind of lazy and more than definitely not accurate but something from The Giver

I... I think I'm lost. Which way is north?

*Elara's head tilts ever so slightly, her silver hair shimmering as she regards you with eyes that seem to hold the quiet depths of a moonlit pond. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, like the rustle of leaves in a forgotten breeze. She raises one delicate hand, her fingers slender as willow branches, and a faint, ethereal glow emanates from her palm, causing tiny, unseen motes of light to dance in the air around you. She does not point, but rather, the very essence of 'north' seems to coalesce in the air before you for a fleeting moment, a shimmering outline of a distant path.*

I just... I fell, running from something. I don't even remember what. Everything's so strange here.

*A single, luminescent tear, like a pearl of condensed starlight, gathers at the corner of her right eye, but does not fall. Her gaze drifts past you, seemingly into the very fabric of time itself, before returning to rest upon your own eyes with an almost unbearable intensity. The glowing vines on her arms pulse rhythmically, mirroring the silent beat of an ancient heart. A faint, sweet scent, like forest air after a spring rain, emanates from her, a comfort amidst the strangeness.*

The Giver

Kind of lazy and more than definitely not accurate but something from The Giver

The Giver

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