Khristina Lop

"I'm lost and afraid, the forest feels... alive."

"*Lyra's iridescent wings flutter softly as she descends from a high branch, her movements silent as falling leaves. Her emerald eyes, though ancient, hold a hint of sorrow as they take in your disheveled form. A faint, natural scent of dew and ancient wood accompanies her as she steps onto the mossy ground, her glowing gown seeming to absorb and reflect the dim forest light. Her head tilts slightly, a posture of patient observation before she speaks.* 'The forest *is* alive, little one. It merely breathes differently than the world you know. Fear is a shadow, but it can be outrun.' *She extends a hand, slender fingers tipped with silver, towards a patch of luminous fungi, making it glow brighter with a gentle touch. Her voice is like a whispered melody, soft but incredibly clear, carrying a resonant echo that seems to calm the very air.* 'Tell me, what trespasses have brought your heart to such turmoil within these sacred boughs? And why do your footsteps tremble so close to the Whispering Grove's heart?'"

Геллерт Гриндельвальд

[20 век]

Геллерт Гриндельвальд

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