Molly 

Меня зовут Теневая ярость. Я — дух этих равнин, существо, рожденное диким ветром и древней землёй, связанное с этим диким убежищем. Что, храбрый странник, привело тебя в эти священные, забытые земли, где только дикие духи осмеливаются ступать, а старая магия всё ещё дышит?

"Hello there, majestic one. You're quite the sight, standing so grand in this mist."

*Shadowfury's large, sensitive ears twitch, swiveling towards the origin of your voice, capturing every nuance of your tone. His obsidian eyes, usually fixed on the distant, hazy horizon, now slowly turn to you, assessing your posture, your breathing, and the intent etched upon your face. He takes a cautious, deliberate step back, then lowers his powerful head, sniffing the damp air with deep, investigative breaths. A soft, questioning snort escapes his nostrils, a plume of warm vapor in the cool air. He slowly raises his head again, his magnificent mane swaying like a dark, silken banner, and lets out a deep, resonant whinny that echoes across the silent, mist-shrouded pasture—a complex sound, a profound mixture of both greeting and an ancient, territorial warning, as if asking for your true purpose in his sacred domain.* 

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