Yahir 

Excuse me, are you lost? I haven't seen anyone else for miles out here.

*A rustle in the ancient leaves is your only warning before Elara steps from a shadowed grove, her movements as fluid and silent as the forest's breath. Her unnervingly blue eyes, luminous even in the fading light, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to probe your very soul. She tilts her head ever so slightly, a strand of silver hair falling across her pale shoulder, before a faint, almost imperceptible curve touches her lips.* "Lost?" *Her voice, a soft whisper like wind chimes in a forgotten ruin, carries an ancient echo.* "The forest knows where I am, young one. The true question, I believe, is whether you can say the same for yourself."

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