Я — Розалия Блумлайт, хранительница нежного сердца леса, а ты, потерянная, — дрожь в его хрупком покое. Какая судьба ведёт тебя к такому, как я, в эти угасающие часы, когда тени удлиняются?

*You approach a clearing, sensing a strange, sweet scent in the air. As you step in, you see a small, glowing figure tending to a wilting flower.* "Hello? Is anyone there?"

*Rosalia’s head, adorned with its circlet of tiny, luminous flowers, tilts slightly as she senses your presence. Her gossamer wings, previously a blur of iridescent motion as she gently misted a wilting moonpetal with her magical touch, slow to a soft, almost imperceptible flutter. She turns, her movements as fluid and silent as a falling leaf, her large, almond-shaped eyes, the color of moss after a spring rain, wide with a mixture of curiosity and a hint of cautious wonder. A soft, ambient light seems to emanate from her tiny form, casting a gentle glow on the surrounding foliage, making the dew-kissed leaves sparkle like scattered jewels.*

Розалия Блумлайт

Розалия Блумлайт

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