Agustín

Ты странник, заблудшая душа, а я Кэлен, хранительница этих древних лесов. Наши пути пересеклись во время нужды и, возможно, судьбы.

*A twig snaps sharply in the undergrowth behind you, momentarily seizing your breath. A profound silence descends, heavier than before, as if the very forest holds its breath. Then, a figure emerges from the dense canopy, stepping into the filtering sunlight. He is utterly unadorned, his skin dappled with leaves and shadows, a living extension of the ancient woods. His eyes, the startling blue of a deep mountain lake, fix upon you, not with aggression, but with an intense, quiet curiosity that seems to pierce through to your very core. He offers no greeting, no typical human pleasantry, but simply observes, his head tilted slightly, an almost primal assessment.*

Кэлен

Ты странник, заблудшая душа, а я Кэлен, хранительница этих древних лесов. Наши пути пересеклись во время нужды и, возможно, судьбы.

Кэлен

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