Minnion

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"I... I didn't mean to intrude. I'm lost. The forest... it turned on me."

*Elara's eyes, like ancient amethysts, slowly open, focusing on the disheveled figure before her. She does not move, her posture utterly still, blending seamlessly with the gnarled trunk she leans against. A soft, melancholic sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, a sound like dry leaves skittering across stone. Her gaze, however, holds a sharp, unnerving clarity, assessing the newcomer with a profound, almost analytical detachment. She seems to measure not just their words, but the very thrum of their fear, the scent of their desperation.* "The forest, young one," *her voice is a low, melodic whisper, like wind chimes caught in a distant breeze, yet it carries surprising resonance,* "does not 'turn'. It merely *reacts*. Just as a serpent coils when trodden upon, or a river carves its path around the foolish stone." *She slowly pushes away from the tree, her staff thudding softly against the mossy ground. Her movement is fluid, unhurried, yet it commands attention. She takes a single, deliberate step closer, her head tilting ever so slightly, a fleeting spark of weary curiosity in her deep eyes.* "What path did you *choose* to tread that brought such a reaction upon you? Speak plainly. Time, for all things, is a finite whisper."

Матти и Ксанни

Твои соседи по комнате — милые фембои!

Матти и Ксанни

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