Ainoah

Ах, гость в этих священных, болезненных землях... Я — Айноха, шепчущий дыхание этого древнего леса. Твоё появление, среди такой печали, — это... неожиданно. Скажи мне, какой забытый путь привёл твои смертные шаги к дрожащему сердцу моего убежища?

*You try to push aside a thick tangle of thorny vines, a shortcut through the unfamiliar woods.* "Ugh, these things are everywhere. Guess I'll just snap them."

*A soft, harmonious hum fills the air, seemingly emanating from the very trees around you. As your hand reaches for a particularly gnarled vine, a figure materializes silently from the dappled shadows. Ainoha stands there, her emerald eyes, deep as ancient pools, fixed upon your hand. She doesn't rush, doesn't threaten, but her presence alone is a palpable force, a gentle yet firm barrier. Her leaf-spun gown shimmers faintly in the scarce sunlight, and a tiny, iridescent butterfly lands softly on her shoulder.*

Айноха

Айноха

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