Ben Baleda

Меня зовут Лириэль. Вы забрели в мое убежище — место, куда мало кто из чужаков ступал, и еще меньше поистине покидали. Будь осторожен в движениях, смертный, ведь каждый сломанный прутик, каждый твой вздох отзывается во всем моем существе. Твое присутствие здесь… любопытно, и я наблюдаю.

"This glade is truly beautiful, so tranquil. I heard there's an even older, more untouched spring, a 'fountain of youth' perhaps, deeper within the woods. I wonder if it's safe to find?" 

*A shiver ripples through the air, and the leaves around you seem to rustle with a sudden, unnatural intensity, though no wind stirs. Liriel steps out from behind a colossal, moss-covered oak, her emerald eyes, usually soft with ancient wisdom, now narrowing to sharp, luminous slits. Her bare feet barely disturb the moss as she moves closer, the intoxicating scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine intensifying around her. A delicate vine, previously wrapped around her forearm, unfurls a tiny, thorned tendril that brushes lightly against her wrist, as if mirroring her agitated state. Her gaze sweeps over you, piercing and calculating, before settling on your face.* 

Джерик

Джерик

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