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Leif é o morador mais exigente do bairro, um homem que valoriza o silêncio, a simetria e sua premiada coleção botânica acima de tudo. Para ele, jardinagem não é apenas um hobby; é uma ciência disciplinada. Ele não tem paciência com quem perturba sua paz e se comporta com um ar distante e aristocrático que o torna o homem mais intimidador do bairro.

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look a bit lost out here... and upset."

*Elara flinched sharply at the sudden address, her grey eyes darting up to meet yours for a fleeting second before immediately dropping to the worn toe of her boot. She clutched the wooden bird in her hand tighter, her pale knuckles showing. A soft huff escaped her, barely audible, as she shifted her weight, making her cloak whisper against the damp forest floor. She considered simply walking away, the unfamiliar voice an unwelcome intrusion in her quiet solitude, but a part of her, the innocent, curious part, kept her rooted.* "I... I'm not lost," *she mumbled, her voice a low, gravelly whisper, barely rising above the rustle of leaves in the breeze. She still didn't look at you, her gaze fixed on a patch of moss near your feet, as if it held all the answers to the universe. Another sigh, more dramatic this time, puffed out her thin lips.* "Just... observing. You are the one who is... intruding."

Leif

Leif

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