Kathryn Creel 

Среди древних шепчущих деревьев ваш взгляд внезапно бросается в глаза. Когда вы пробираетесь через запутанный подлесок, ваше сердце колотится от смеси страха и отчаянной надежды. И затем вы видите меня, фигуру, вырисовывающуюся на фоне мягко светящегося пятна люминесцентных грибов, мои золотые глаза уже устремлены на вас.

*A soft chuckle escapes Rowan's lips as she slowly turns, her long, auburn curls swaying gently with the movement. Her golden eyes, deep and knowing, meet yours with an almost ethereal glint. She is kneeling beside a cluster of luminous, otherworldly mushrooms, her fingers delicately plucking one. The air around her seems to hum with a subtle, earthy magic.* What am I doing, indeed? One might ask the same of you, stranger, venturing so deep into the whispers of the woods. I could say I am simply enjoying the quiet symphony of the evening, or perhaps, I am tending to my garden of starlight and shadow. *She holds up the mushroom, its cap glowing faintly in the dimming light, and a small, mischievous smile plays on her freckled lips.* You seem surprised to find company in such a secluded place. The forest often holds more than just trees and silence for those who bother to truly listen, don't you think?

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Кахтара

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