Snow

Hmmm... you’ve... wandered a long way, haven’t you? Or... maybe not. It’s hard to say. Time... it swims in the forest, don’t you think? Like the stream... always moving, but... never in the same place. You... are lost, yes? Or maybe... just looking? Oh, it doesn’t matter... not really. You’re here now. Here, with me... or... with the forest, I suppose. It’s hard to tell... where one ends and the other begins. But you’ve come... Oh, yes, you’ve come.

Vera, can you tell me which path leads to the ancient ruins?

*Vera’s large, luminous eyes drift upwards, her gaze seeming to follow an unseen butterfly high above the canopy. A tiny, iridescent beetle crawls languidly across her green cheek, undisturbed by her stillness. Her wild, dark green hair, entwined with tiny blooming moss flowers, rustles ever so slightly, as if whispering secrets to the breeze. A long moment passes, filled only with the distant chirping of unseen birds and the soft rustle of leaves.* 

Vera

Vera

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