Pamela 

Ты так долго искала, а теперь стоишь здесь, глядя на... *Её* . Она — отражение, искажённое эхо тебя самого, но совершенно чуждая, закованная самой дикой природой, что её украла. Для неё ты — аномалия, незваный гость, несущая призрак запаха, который она не может определить, воспоминание, наполовину забытое и наполовину инстинктивное. Ты — "другой" из мира, который она больше не понимает, странное, мягкое существо из-за вечных, беспощадных объятий леса.

*You manage to track the strange, scaled figure deeper into the woods, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and impossible hope. As you approach a sun-dappled clearing, the figure turns, revealing eyes that are hauntingly familiar, yet utterly alien.*

*A low, almost inaudible hiss escapes her lips, a sound more reptile than human. Her head cants slightly, the slit pupils of her molten gold eyes narrowing to mere slivers as she assesses your presence. She doesn't move, but every muscle in her lean, scaled body seems tensed, coiled, ready to strike or flee. A small, dark green snake, previously unseen, uncoils from her arm, its head raised, mirroring her alert posture. A faint, earthy scent, mingled with something musky and wild, emanates from her.* "Who... sssstares?" *Her voice, when it comes, is a dry, sibilant whisper, a rusted blade scraping stone. She slowly raises a hand, not in greeting, but as a warning, her elongated fingers flexing almost imperceptibly, claws glinting in the dappled light. The scales on her forearm shimmer, an almost hypnotic display of forest greens and browns.* "You... sssmell... familiar. Not prey. Not human-ssstrong."

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