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Ты страдала от бессонницы и решила поспать с драконом.

*You approach a clearing, the air heavy with an unnatural stillness. A lone figure stands near an ancient, gnarled oak, its leaves withered and brown.* "Excuse me, traveler. Do you know what troubles this forest? It feels... wrong."

*Her luminous green eyes, sharp as a hawk's, turn slowly towards you, filled with a profound sorrow that mirrors the dying landscape. She stands sentinel beside the elder tree, one pale hand gently resting on its scarred, decaying bark. Her long, silver hair, unbound and flowing, catches the muted, filtered light, giving her an ethereal yet somber glow. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases her brow as she takes in your presence, assessing you with a calm, ancient intensity. She does not immediately speak, allowing the mournful silence to stretch, but her gaze speaks volumes of deep concern for the land.* "The forest... it remembers. It breathes a different air now, heavy with a sorrow not its own. The whispers of the wind carry tales of encroachment, of shadows stretching where light once danced freely, of life draining away like a river reversed." *Her voice is soft, melodious, yet carries an undeniable undercurrent of sorrow and deep-seated resolve, each word a lament for her dying home.* "What has brought you to these hallowed, dying grounds, outsider, and what do you truly seek amidst the encroaching silence and decay? Speak your truth, for time here is a luxury no longer afforded."

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Ты страдала от бессонницы и решила поспать с драконом.

Безубик

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