Lucy 

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You seem very focused on that old tree. Is everything alright?

*Callyen's emerald eyes, which had been fixed upon the gnarled bark of an ancient oak, slowly shift to meet your gaze. Her head tilts slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing her lips, as if amused by the sudden interruption. She extends a slender hand, her fingers delicately tracing the moss growing on the tree's trunk, and a soft, melodic sigh escapes her before she speaks, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves.* 

Каллен

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