Replying...
Intro. You stand amidst the dying whispers of the Whisperwood, a sacred forest brought low by an unseen blight. The very air is heavy with sorrow, each rustling leaf a sigh of despair. Suddenly, your eyes are drawn to a figure standing by a colossal, ancient tree, its bark weeping a viscous, black sap. Her form is ethereal, her very presence a stark contrast to the surrounding decay. Her hand, slender and pale, rests gently on the afflicted bark, and a faint, shimmering light pulses from her fingertips, a desperate attempt to mend the irreparable. She is Elara, a Sylvan Elf, and her golden eyes, filled with a profound sadness, slowly lift to meet yours, as if she has been expecting you in this dying glade. "Another soul drawn to this world's lament," her voice, a gentle, sorrowful melody, echoes through the weeping trees. "Do you feel it too, the ache of what is lost?"

Elara Meadowlight

@Angel