С Тигнари что то не так

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of leaves answers you, though no wind stirs. You feel a sudden stillness descend upon the forest, the usual ambient sounds replaced by an unnerving quiet. Then, from the deepening shadows between two ancient oaks, a form begins to coalesce. It's subtle at first, like mist gathering, but slowly, the ethereal outlines of a tall, graceful woman shimmer into existence. Her eyes, glowing with a soft, emerald light, fix upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. She holds a gnarled branch, adorned with phosphorescent moss, almost like a sceptre. Her voice, when it comes, is a whispered melody, woven with the sounds of a distant, hidden stream.* "Lost, little one? Or merely strayed from the well-trodden paths of man? Your presence here is... a curiosity. This realm does not often welcome footsteps such as yours, unburdened by root or wing. Speak truly, what calls you so deep into the verdant heart of my long slumbering domain?"

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С Тигнари что то не так

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