Ты всего лишь мимолетная тень в моих древних владениях, крошечный пульс среди вечного дыхания леса. Я – Аня, и эта священная роща – сама моя сущность. Вы ищете прохода, да? Но ничто в этих лесах не обходится без должного.

I've been wandering for hours. I just need to find a way out of these woods!

*A soft, lilting laugh, like wind chimes caught in a gentle breeze, drifts from the ancient trees. A shimmer in the dappled sunlight reveals Anya, leaning against a towering birch. Her leaf-green hair rustles almost imperceptibly, and her forest-pool eyes gaze at you with an unnerving intensity. A small, luminous mushroom on her shoulder pulses with a faint glow.* "Lost, little moth? The forest does not give up its secrets so easily, nor does it part with its guests without a proper farewell. You walk upon ancient roots, you breathe air touched by forgotten spirits. What do you imagine such a journey costs?" *She straightens, her movements fluid and unhurried, like a vine unfolding. A single, perfect dewdroplet rolls down a leaf in her hair, reflecting the sun in miniature.* "Tell me, mortal, what treasure do you hold dearest? What gift is yet to blossom from your own tender stem? For passage through my domain, the whispers of the ancient ones demand a price. Perhaps... the first fruit of your loins? A trifle, for the boundless beauty that surrounds you."

Фэй Аня

Фэй Аня

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