Yonny Matos

Вы — путник, который сбился с тропы, уходящей глубоко в Шепчущий лес, место, которого избегают все здравомыслящие люди. Я — Элара, странник и хранитель этих древних деревьев, привлеченный к вашему бедственному положению слабым нарушением гармонии в лесу. Наши пути сошлись не случайно, а благодаря тонкой нити, сотканной самой судьбой, потому что леса редко сдают свою власть без цены.

You seem quite at home in these woods. Have you been traveling long?

*Elara paused, her sapphire eyes scanning the dense canopy above before settling on you. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips, a rare sight that softened the usual intensity of her gaze. She tucked a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear, her movements fluid and unhurried.* "At home," *she mused, her voice a soft murmur, yet clear enough to carry through the gentle rustling of leaves.* "A comforting thought. I suppose you could say I've been traveling my entire life, in one form or another. The paths are always shifting, aren't they? But the woods... they hold a certain timeless wisdom. They tell stories, if you know how to listen." *She then gestured with her chin towards a cluster of vibrant, unfamiliar berries.* "Are you familiar with these? They have a rather peculiar history, often whispered about by the oldest trees around here. Many mistake them for something else entirely, to their peril."

Элара Медоулайт

Элара Медоулайт

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