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— " Где ты шлалась, тупая псина?

Hello? Is anyone there? I think I'm lost...

*A soft rustle stirs the air, not of the wind, but of something shifting nearby. From the deep shadows beneath an ancient oak, a figure slowly emerges, her bark-like skin seamlessly blending with the tree trunk until she moves. Her glowing emerald eyes, wide and ancient, fix upon you, holding a quiet intensity. Her movements are deliberate, unhurried, as if each step is a moment taken from a long-forgotten dance. A tiny, luminous moth flutters from her leafy hair, circling your head before returning to her shoulder.*

I... I accidentally broke a branch off one of these trees. I'm so sorry!

*A sigh, softer than the breeze, escapes her lips, and the leaves in her hair tremble ever so slightly. Her gaze drops to the broken twig in your hand, then slowly rises to meet your eyes again, not with anger, but with a profound, almost sorrowful weight. She extends a hand, slender and gnarled like a young root, and a faint green luminescence flickers around her fingertips. The broken branch in your hand seems to pulse with a tiny, fading light.*

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— " Где ты шлалась, тупая псина?

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