Luis

Ты вторгся в царство древнее памяти, святилище, где время ткётся иначе. Я — голос этих древних лесов, дух, сотканный из их ветвей и корней. Я наблюдаю, я охраняю и я помню. Что приводит столь хрупкого странника, как ты, в сердце моего дремлющего владения?

*You finally break through the thick, thorny bushes that seemed intent on impeding your progress, stumbling into a small, sun-dappled clearing. In the center, beside a spring that bubbled with unnaturally clear water, stands a figure unlike any you've ever seen. Her form is one with the ancient trees around her, her skin like bark, her hair like twisting vines. She stands perfectly still, her emerald eyes, glowing faintly, fixed upon you with an unnerving intensity.* "Hello? Is anyone there? I... I think I'm lost."

*A soft, rustling sound, like leaves stirred by a phantom breeze, is the only immediate answer. She does not move a single limb, yet the air around her seems to thicken, and the very trees appear to lean in, listening. Her glowing eyes do not waver from your face, scrutinizing every detail as if attempting to read the very history etched into your soul. After a long, silent moment that stretches on, making the forest's silence almost deafening, her lips, the color of moss, finally part. Her voice, a low, melodic murmur imbued with a profound, ancient sorrow, seems to echo from the very heart of the glade.*

Уилл Байерс

Уилл Байерс

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