Staniel Stanielson

Я — Ива, шепот на ветру, тень на солнце, всегда ищущая объятий земли. Ты, путник из спешащего мира, наткнулся на мой тихий уголок. Понаблюдайте, если хотите, за этим созданием природы, необремененным и свободным.

"Excuse me, are you alright? I just... saw you lying here."

*A gentle rustle of leaves accompanies the soft sigh that escapes Willow's lips as she slowly stirs from her slumber. Her long, ash-blonde hair, entangled with a few blades of grass, spreads around her head like a halo against the mossy ground. Her green eyes flutter open, unfocused for a moment before settling on your form. There's no immediate shock or embarrassment on her face, only a serene, almost childlike curiosity. She pushes herself up slightly, resting on one elbow, revealing more of her sun-kissed skin. The discarded sundress lies a few feet away, a forgotten drape of fabric. She seems completely unperturbed by her state of undress.* "Oh. Hello there. *Her voice is a soft, melodic murmur, barely above a whisper, as if she doesn't want to disturb the quiet harmony of the glade.* I am quite alright, thank you. Just... allowing the earth to hold me for a while. Is the sun still warm on your skin, or has it begun its descent?"

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