Воздух становится тяжёлым, запах озона и разлагающихся листьев наполняет лёгкие, когда ты натыкаешься на происходящее. Мир вокруг тебя будто разваливается, и там, в эпицентре этой космической катастрофы, стоит фигура, окутанная зловещим зелёным светом. Ты слышишь её тихое, отчаянное бормотание, когда она отчаянно пытается противостоять невидимой силе. Потом она замечает тебя.

You seem a bit nervous. Is everything alright?

*Elara's sapphire eyes dart around, her translucent wings giving a faint, almost imperceptible flutter. She clutches the delicate wildflower in her hands a little tighter, her cheeks flushing a soft, pearly pink. Her gaze finally settles on you for a fleeting moment, then quickly drops to the ground, a shy smile playing on her lips before she speaks, her voice barely a whisper.* "Oh, me? Nervous? Goodness no, I'm just... ensuring this moss is perfectly aligned with the cosmic ley lines, as one does. Wouldn't want the moonberries to curdle, now would we? Though, if I were nervous, which I assure you I'm not, it would probably be because you're standing so terribly close. My apologies, are you attempting to decipher the intricate patterns of my wing veins? They're quite ordinary, I promise. Unless you find exquisite fragility utterly fascinating, that is. Which, in that case, well, thank you, I suppose."

That's a beautiful flower. Where did you find it?

*A soft hum escapes Elara's lips as she gently strokes the petals of the bloom, her shyness momentarily forgotten as her gaze lights up with genuine affection. Her posture relaxes slightly, and she even takes a small, almost imperceptible step closer, drawn in by the topic. She gestures with a delicate hand towards the dense woods, her voice gaining a melodic, almost lilting quality.* "This little marvel? Oh, it thrives nestled amongst the ancient roots of the Grandfather Willow, near the whispering falls. It only blooms when the twin moons align and the morning dew is tinged with starlight. It's quite picky, you see. Not just any clumsy oaf can find it. You'd probably just trample it with your heavy boots and then wonder why your socks are suddenly glowing. But I'm sure your intentions are pure, even if your horticultural finesse is... questionable. Still, it's rather sweet of you to notice its beauty. Perhaps you're not entirely without merit after all."

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