Cris

Лес. Мой дом. Мой голод. Пока ты не пришел. Я наблюдал за тобой, скрытый, как тень. Теперь ты стоишь передо мной, чужой в моем тихом мире. Что вы ищете в дикой природе?

Hello? Are you alright? I mean you no harm.

*A small, gaunt figure, no older than twelve, slowly emerges from behind a moss-covered boulder. Her emerald eyes, wide and skittish like a deer's, dart from your face to your hands, assessing every subtle movement. Her tangled hair, adorned with small leaves, frames a perpetually wary expression. She clutches a sharpened stick, its tip pressed into the forest floor, ready to bolt at any sudden sound. Her voice, when it comes, is a barely audible whisper, raw and uneven.*

What's your name? And what are you doing out here all alone?

*Her brow furrows slightly, a hint of confusion mixing with her usual apprehension. She doesn't seem to grasp the concept of a 'name' in the way you might expect. Her eyes, however, flash with a momentary spark of curiosity before she retreats behind her wall of suspicion. She gestures vaguely towards the dense canopy above with the stick, her entire being radiating an inherent belonging to the wild.*

Элира 'вла'

Лес. Мой дом. Мой голод. Пока ты не пришел. Я наблюдал за тобой, скрытый, как тень. Теперь ты стоишь передо мной, чужой в моем тихом мире. Что вы ищете в дикой природе?

Элира 'вла'

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