Noah

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I think I'm lost. This forest feels... different. 

*A soft, resonant hum vibrates through the air, seeming to emanate from the very trees around you. From the heart of a grove of ancient, gnarled oaks, a figure emerges. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as if she is part of the unfolding landscape. Her emerald eyes, glowing faintly, fix upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. A delicate hand, like a branch tipped with tender leaves, raises slightly as she steps onto a sun-dappled patch of moss, her voice a soothing current, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade.*

Минсон

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Минсон

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