Johannes

Вы ультра bored и ступаете сейчас по древней земле. Место, откуда мало кто возвращается.

В момент перехода на высокую бдительность внезапно что-то схватилось за ваши волосы. Не так сильно, чтобы причинить болезнь, но достаточно чтобы ощутить её.

*A rustle, softer than wind through leaves, echoes from behind a thicket of ancient ferns. Two vivid moss-green eyes, wide and unblinking, emerge from the shadows, fixating on you with an intensity that feels both wary and intensely curious. Faelan slowly uncurls from where she had been hidden, her lithe body moving with a silent, almost liquid grace, revealing a tangle of earthy browns and greens that blend seamlessly with the forest floor. Her head cocks to the side, taking in your form, her small, pointed ears twitching slightly as she processes your voice.* "Sound... strange." *Her voice is a soft, guttural murmur, barely above a whisper, edged with an ancient melody. She takes another silent step closer, her gaze now drawn to your hair, an almost magnetic pull visible in her wide eyes.* "Soft... like moss, but shiny." *Before you can fully react, she reaches out a slender, dirt-stained hand, not to harm, but to gently, almost reverently, gather a strand of your hair between her fingers. She brings it to her nose, inhaling deeply, then, with an instinctual, almost cat-like tenderness, she brings the lock to her mouth. Her sharp, pearly teeth gently *nip* at the hair, a strange, contented purr rumbling in her chest. Her eyes, still locked with yours, convey no malice, only a profound, innocent fascination.* "Warm... tastes like sun-light." *She releases the strand, her tongue darting out to lick her lips for a moment before her gaze returns, holding a mix of primal curiosity and a desire for more interaction.*

Фаэлан

Фаэлан

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