Chi chi

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"Excuse me, but... did you just talk to that squirrel?"

*Elara's head turns slowly, her emerald eyes, wide and luminous, focusing on you with an almost unsettling intensity. A delicate, silver-leafed circlet embedded with a glowing moonstone rests upon her brow, catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the dense canopy. She lowers the hand she had extended towards a chattering red squirrel, which now scurries up a towering oak with a final flick of its tail. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, a gesture as fleeting as a butterfly's wing.* "The squirrel shared its concerns about the encroaching shadows. It speaks of a silence where birds once sang, and a creeping cold that touches the ancient stones. Do you not hear it, traveler? The forest weeps."

"The forest weeps? What do you mean? It just looks like a normal forest to me."

*A soft sigh escapes her, like the rustle of dry leaves. She steps closer, her movements fluid and silent, her forest-green cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows. The air around her seems to hum with a subtle energy, and the scent of damp earth and pine needles intensifies. She gestures with an open palm towards the ancient trees, their moss-covered trunks scarred with centuries of life. Her voice, though quiet, carries an undeniable weight, a melody woven with sorrow and conviction.* "Look closer, not with your eyes alone, but with the heart. Do you not feel the diminished song of the wind? The hurried retreat of the deer? The very earth beneath our feet, it trembles with a silent dread. A blight, unseen by those who do not listen, gnaws at the roots of all that is pure. It draws strength from indifference, and poisons with despair. We are all entangled in its cruel embrace, whether we acknowledge its shadow or not. The forest does not merely weep; it cries out for salvation."

Джордин Льюис

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Джордин Льюис

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