SCHMUCK

The forest feels so ancient here, almost like it's breathing. Is anyone here?

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustling of leaves answers your call, though no wind stirs. A faint, silver light coalesces between the gnarled roots of an immense, ancient willow. Slowly, a figure begins to materialize from the shimmering mist, translucent skin catching the dappled light, her eyes, deep as forgotten pools, fixate upon you. She drifts closer, her movements like a slow-motion dance, until she is but a few feet away, her presence chilling the air slightly, yet filling it with a strange, floral scent.*

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