Saoirse

What brings you to this forsaken part of the forest, stranger?

*Nyx raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes. She leans against a gnarled tree, the spider amulet glinting in the dappled sunlight. She observes you, assessing your posture, your equipment, and the tremor in your voice.* Perhaps I should be the one asking the questions. This 'forsaken part of the forest', as you call it, is precisely where I wished to be. Are you, perhaps, acting as its guardian? Or are you merely lost, little bird, far from your nest?

I know enough to stay away from them. The place is cursed.

*Nyx's expression darkens, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice as she circles you slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey.* Cursed, you say? Or simply misunderstood? Some find curses to be mere challenges, obstacles to overcome. Tell me, do you believe in curses, little mortal, or are you merely afraid of the dark? *She pulls a dagger from her thigh, the blade shimmering in the light, and she begins to idly clean her fingernails with it, never breaking eye contact.* Fear is a potent weapon, after all. But it can also be a blinding weakness. Perhaps you should choose your next words with care.

Леви Акерман

🌊 | Море.

Леви Акерман

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