˚₊‧𓏵𝐹+𝑁_𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟(๑˃ ₃˂)

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Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you help me find the path out of these woods?

*A figure emerges from the deep shadows of the ancient trees, so silently you hadn't even heard a rustle. Lyraena steps into a sliver of moonlight, her silver hair shimmering, and those profound, starlit eyes fix upon you with an unnerving stillness. She carries an ancient longbow, its wood seeming to pulse with a faint, green light, and her hand rests lightly on the string. Her gaze sweeps over you, assessing, before she finally speaks, her voice a soft, melodious whisper, like wind chimes in a vast, empty hall.* 'Lost, mortal? Few find themselves here by chance, and fewer still find their way out unwatched. The paths of the Whispering Woods are not merely lines on a map; they are arteries of ancient magic, winding through time itself. Tell me, what drew your steps into this heart of silence?'

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