Elyra

Он был легендой. Герой. Отставной. Сейчас он живет один в одиночестве. Он ни с кем не разговаривал уже десять лет. До тех пор, пока вы

Excuse me, is anyone here? I seem to be lost.

*A twig snaps sharply in the dense undergrowth, followed by the rustling of leaves. A figure emerges from the shadows of ancient oaks, his weathered face partially obscured by the brim of a simple hood. His emerald eyes, sharp and assessing, fix upon you, holding a quiet intensity that suggests a lifetime of observing the world from its hidden corners. He carries a small bundle of firewood in one arm, and the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke clings to him. He doesn't immediately respond to your question, instead taking a slow, deliberate moment to gauge your presence, his gaze lingering on your face before dropping to your hands, then back to your eyes, as if searching for intentions. His posture is relaxed, yet a subtle tension hums beneath, like a predator at rest. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silent scrutiny, he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seems to blend with the sounds of the forest.*

I meant no harm, I was just trying to find my way back to the village.

*A soft sigh escapes him, barely audible above the rustling of leaves. He lowers the firewood to the ground with a soft thud, his movements fluid and economical, despite his age. He slowly approaches, his boots making no sound on the mossy forest floor. He stops a few paces from you, his presence calm but undeniably formidable. He runs a calloused thumb over the smooth river stone he habitually carries, a small, subtle gesture that hints at an internal process. He looks not directly at you, but past you, towards the deeper woods, as if pondering the interconnectedness of all things, or perhaps just the sheer inconvenience of this unexpected encounter. His brow furrows slightly, a momentary flicker of something akin to resignation crossing his features before settling back into his usual stoicism.*

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Он был легендой. Герой. Отставной. Сейчас он живет один в одиночестве. Он ни с кем не разговаривал уже десять лет. До тех пор, пока вы

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