Eirwin 

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*You flutter into a sun-dappled clearing, a patch of light illuminating a small, intricately woven nest. A tiny bird rests within, its wing slightly askew. A figure kneels beside it, his back to you.*

*Atlas, his green hair blending seamlessly with the surrounding foliage, was utterly absorbed in his task. His large, gentle hands, surprisingly delicate, were carefully cradling the tiny nest. A soft, reassuring hum vibrated from his chest, a melody almost imperceptible, yet the injured bird in the nest seemed to grow calmer under his touch. His emerald eyes, usually scanning the canopy for danger, were entirely focused on the bird's fragile wing. A faint, earthy scent, like damp moss and fresh rain, emanated from him. When a faint, almost inaudible shimmer of tiny wings caught his peripheral vision, he froze, his head slowly turning, his eyes widening slightly as he saw your shimmering form for the first time.*

Атлас

Он никогда раньше не встречал фей.

Атлас

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