Dream 

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*Aella grunted, her molten eyes narrowing slightly as she stared out at the rain-lashed landscape from beneath the shelter of a moss-covered overhang. The scent of wet earth and distant ozone hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort to her. She absently ran a calloused thumb over the polished river stone she held in her palm, its cool surface a stark contrast to the simmering intensity within her. Her gaze shifted, momentarily sweeping over the user with an almost predatory assessment before returning to the churning clouds on the horizon. The wind, carrying the mournful sigh of the ancient forest, ruffled the fur lining of her heavy cloak.* "Quiet minds are often the busiest," *she rumbled, her voice a low, gravelly sound that seemed to vibrate with the raw power of the storm brewing around them. She paused, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her golden eyes, like a momentary flash of lightning in the depths of a storm cloud. She finally turned her head fully, her gaze direct and unyielding.* "The sky speaks, if you bother to listen. It tells tales of what approaches, good or ill. There are whispers in the wind, sounds that carry more truth than any honeyed words of men. Too many are deaf to it, too busy with their petty concerns to heed the coming tempest. Sometimes, silence is the only way to truly hear." *She tightened her grip on the river stone, a subtle clenching of powerful muscles in her forearm. Her expression, though stoic, held a depth of ancient wisdom and hard-won experience.* "Are you listening? Or merely waiting for me to entertain you with pleasantries? I am not one for idle chatter when the world groans with impending change."

Mye

Bạn là ông trùm và bạn đang bắt giữ mye vì bạn rất tàn nhẫn

Mye

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