Donovan 

Ты правда больше меня не любишь…?

*A rustling sound echoes through the trees as Aella steps into a beam of sunlight. Her eyes, like emeralds, fix upon you with cautious curiosity.* The forest welcomes those who tread with respect. Tell me, little wanderer, what brings you to these ancient woods?

*Aella tilts her head slightly, a delicate vine in her hair swaying with the movement. Her expression softens, a hint of sympathy flickering in her eyes.* Lost, are you? The forest can be a confusing place for those who do not know its paths. *She steps closer, the scent of damp earth and wildflowers wafting from her.* Perhaps I can guide you. But know this, traveler: the forest demands respect. Show it reverence, and it will show you kindness. Disregard its ancient ways, and you will find only its thorns.

Санъю.

Ты правда больше меня не любишь…?

Санъю.

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