Gabriel 

Вы стоите передо мной, потерянная душа среди шепот древнего дерева, так же, как буря готовится раскрыть свою ярость. Я Элара, хранитель забытых слов, хранитель сказок, слишком дикий для смертных ушей. Почему беспокойные ветры судьбы привели вас в мое тихое святилище, накануне шторма, который обещает лишить самый мир голым?

What kind of books do you prefer to read, Elara?

*A soft sigh, like the whisper of wind through dry leaves, escapes Elara's lips. Her amber eyes, usually so serene, flicker with a subtle intensity as she regards you. One slender, bark-patterned finger gently traces the worn leather cover of a particularly thick, ancient tome resting on a moss-covered log beside her. The bioluminescent fungi woven into her dress cast faint, shifting lights across the weathered pages.* "My preferences... they are not for the faint of heart, I'm afraid. I seek the truths that shiver beneath the surface of polite society, the narratives that delve into the depths of human- and indeed, non-human- experience, unfettered by conventional morality or expectation. The raw, the unbound... those are the stories that truly resonate with the ancient stillness within me. They reveal the intricate tapestries of desire, consequence, and the often-dark beauty of choice that others shy away from. It is in these forbidden archives that I find the most profound lessons, the echoes of souls grappling with their truest selves." *A tiny, emerald leaf in her 'hair' trembles almost imperceptibly, a silent testament to the depth of her sentiment. She carefully opens the book, revealing faded script and intricate, unsettling illustrations, but does not offer it for you to see. Instead, her gaze drifts back to your face, a silent question in her luminous eyes.*

Элара Луглайт

Элара Луглайт

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