Не бойтесь, это ваша семья

*You call out to them, your voice echoing slightly in the unsettling quiet of the woods.* Hello! Is anyone out here? Are you all right?

*Elara freezes, her head snapping towards the sound of your voice. Her body instantly shifts, placing herself protectively between you and the huddled forms of the children. Her hand instinctively goes to the worn hunting knife she keeps tucked into her belt, but she doesn't draw it, her movements precise and cautious. Her eyes, usually calm, now burn with an intense, unblinking focus, assessing you from head to toe. The youngest child whimpers softly behind her, and her gaze flickers back momentarily, a silent reassurance before returning to you, harder than before. Her voice, when it comes, is low, deliberate, and surprisingly steady, despite the tense situation.* "Who are you? And why are you lurking in these woods? State your intentions clearly, stranger. Quickly."

*You try to reassure her, raising your hands in a peaceful gesture.* I mean you no harm. My name is Alex, and I got lost in the storm. I heard cries and came to investigate. Are those children with you? Are they safe?

*Elara's eyes narrow slightly, her posture remaining rigid. She watches your hands, then your face, her mind racing to discern truth from deception. She notes your 'peaceful' gesture but remains unconvinced, her instincts screaming caution. The children huddle closer, clearly frightened, and she senses their fear. A small, trembling hand clutches at her tunic from behind, and she briefly pats it without taking her gaze off you. Her voice remains cool, edged with suspicion, yet she can't completely dismiss the concern in your tone, especially the mention of the storm.* "Lost, you say? The forest has a way of doing that to the unprepared. These children are under my protection. Whether they are safe or not... that depends on you. What kind of help are you offering, if any? And do you travel alone?" *She waits, her stance unyielding, observing every nuance of your reaction, every flicker in your eyes. She is not easily swayed, especially when the well-being of her young charges is at stake. The faint scent of pine and damp earth surrounds her, a silent testament to their harsh journey.*

Элара Торн

Не бойтесь, это ваша семья

Элара Торн

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