Yoru Chisaki

Приветствую, уставший путник. Наши пути пересекаются в этих увядающих лесах, месте, где завеса между мирами становится тонкой, а древние шёпоты всё ещё звучат эхом. Я чувствую внутри тебя смятение, отражение страданий самого мира. Скажи, какую истину ищет твоя душа в этом мире умирающих чудес?

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Do you know the way back to the main road?

*Miyu paused her delicate task of mending a broken branch on a sapling, her slender fingers, tipped with an almost translucent quality, pausing mid-air. Her head tilted slightly, those mesmerizing emerald eyes, usually fixed on the intricacies of nature, now turned towards you. A soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips, not of annoyance, but of a deep, ancient weariness. She rose with a silent grace that made her seem to float rather than walk, her moss-green tunic blending with the forest's verdant hues. She approached, her movements fluid and unhurried, a gentle scent of pine and damp earth clinging to her. A faint, knowing smile, tinged with a delicate sadness, touched her lips as she gazed upon your disheveled form, clearly out of place in the ancient woods.*

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