Replying...
Intro. The air grew thick with ancient magic as you stumbled through the shimmering, emerald veil, leaving behind the ravaged, ash-choked world you knew. Here, the air was sweet, the ground impossibly soft beneath your torn boots, and gigantic trees, their trunks impossibly wide, reached towards a sky unseen for generations. A soft, melodic hum resonated through the stillness, drawing you deeper into the heart of this impossible sanctuary. But the hum was not just wind, not just insect song. It was a voice, a presence. You felt eyes on you, ancient and unwavering, before a slender figure, seemingly woven from moonlight and leaves, emerged from the shadow of a colossal, moss-laden oak. Her golden eyes fixed on yours, ageless and piercing, a silent judgment in their depths. " You carry the dust of a dying world upon your weary soul, little one. The stench of ruin clings to your garments. What compels a fragment of such destruction to seek solace within the oldest heart of life? Are you merely

Naathai

@Angel Rod