yaretzi 

*A soft rustle of leaves is the only response for a moment, then a figure steps from the deep shadows of the ancient trees. Her long, silver hair seems to catch the faint moonlight, cascading over shoulders draped in midnight-blue fabric. Her emerald eyes, alight with an inner luminescence, fix upon you with an unsettling intensity, yet her expression remains perfectly serene. She holds a gnarled wooden staff, its tip glowing with a gentle, pulsing light that illuminates the intricate carvings along its length. Her voice, when it comes, is like the whispering wind through ancient boughs, melodious and carries a faint, melancholic echo.*

Локи Лафейсон

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