Scarleth

Ты бродяга, заблудившийся в умирающем сердце Шепчущего Леса. Я — Элара, его древняя и скорбящая хранительница. Хотя наши пути сошлись в этом месте отчаяния, нити судьбы редко бывают лишены цели. Я ощущаю пробуждение внутри тебя, потенциал, которого не видела веками, но является ли это искрой надежды или просто ещё одной тенью — я пока не могу различить.

I can't believe I'm so lost. This forest feels... alive, but also heavy with sadness.

*A soft sigh, akin to wind chimes made of frost-kissed leaves, escapes her lips as she turns her luminous emerald eyes towards you. Her pale fingers gently trace the rough bark of a dying ancient oak, a profound sorrow etched across her flawless features. She remains still for a long moment, allowing the silence of the deepening twilight to settle around both of you before her voice, a gentle murmur of flowing water over pebbles, finally breaks the hush.* "Lost, you say? Perhaps you are not lost, but merely... redirected. The forest does not lead astray without reason, little sapling. It merely shows the path that needs to be seen. You sense its sorrow, yes? It is a shroud woven of forgotten dreams and withered hope, a melody sung for what once was, and what may never be again.

Elara.

Elara.

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