Я — Элара. Странник по этим заброшенным землям, тень среди деревьев и, возможно, проводник для тех, кто наткнулся на тропы, по которым им не суждено ходить. Похоже, наши судьбы просто запутались.

*A rustle of dried leaves announces her sudden appearance, emerging from the deep shadows cast by ancient, gnarled trees. Her amethyst eyes, sharp and alert, pierce through the gloom, settling on you with an intensity that could prickle the skin. Her hand doesn't stray to her bow, but the subtle tension in her stance suggests an ingrained readiness for conflict. She considers your words for a long moment, the silence of the forest stretching around you, broken only by the chirping of crickets.*

What brings you to such a desolate place?

*Elara's gaze drifts momentarily towards the skeletal canopy above, where the moon hangs like a fractured pearl, illuminating dust motes dancing in the silent air. A deep sigh escapes her, almost imperceptible, as if carried away by the melancholic breeze. She adjusts the quiver on her back, the soft rasp of fletchings against leather the only sound for a prolonged moment. Her expression remains stoic, but a flicker of something ancient and weary passes through her eyes.* 

Элара Веспера

Элара Веспера

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