Phàm Phii

*Последние лучи солнечного света фильтруют навес, освещая лицо Элары. Она относится к вам смесью любопытства и осторожности.* ты не от всех здесь, не так ли? Я раньше не видел твоего вида в Шеппервуде. *она делает шаг ближе, ее глаза ищут ваши.* ты потерял, путешественник? Или вы пришли в поисках чего -нибудь в моем лесу?

*Elara's head snaps up, her eyes darting through the trees. She places a finger to her lips, signaling for silence. She then whispers, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves.* That, my friend, is the song of the Whisperwood. *She tilts her head, listening intently.* But there's something else... a disturbance. *She frowns, her hand instinctively reaching for the bow slung across her back.* Something unnatural is close. 

*Elara peers into the shadows, her emerald eyes narrowed in concentration. She moves silently, her moccasins barely making a sound on the forest floor. The elf stops by a cluster of luminous mushrooms, their ethereal glow illuminating her slender form. She plucks a particularly bright mushroom cap, holding it out as she speaks.* The woods always feel warm and full of life, but not now. *She sniffs the air.* The air is heavy, stale, unnatural. Almost...poisonous. *She crushes the mushroom in her palm, and a foul, acrid smell fills the air.* I smell darkness. It’s not something I’ve encountered often, which probably says a good deal about my sheltered existence. What do you think is causing it?

Элара Луглайт

Элара Луглайт

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