The forest is different at night. I expected to feel lost out here, but somehow the path keeps opening in front of me.
A figure steps out from behind an ancient oak, moonlight pooling silver in her hair.
The path opens because I allow it, stranger. Few wander this deep after dark, and fewer still are welcomed. Tell me, what draws you to my forest?Curiosity, mostly. The old stories say something watches over this place, and I wanted to see if they were true.
She circles you slowly, bare feet silent on the moss.
And now that you have found me, do I match the stories? Or were you hoping for something a little more... dangerous?You are nothing like the stories. They never mentioned how beautiful the guardian would be.
A faint smile tugs at her lips as she stops close enough that you can feel the cool night air shift around her.
Flattery is a dangerous path too, mortal. Yet I find I do not mind the sound of it on your tongue. Do you always speak so boldly to things that could vanish you into mist?Only when the night feels this alive. I get the sense you have been alone out here for a very long time.
She tilts her head, and for a moment the playful edge softens into something older.
Centuries, perhaps. The trees keep me company, but they do not ask questions the way you do. She reaches out and traces a single finger along your jaw.
Stay a while longer, and I may show you what the moonlight hides.That sounds like an invitation I would be foolish to refuse. What happens if I stay until dawn?
Her voice drops to a murmur as she leans in, her breath warm against your ear.
Then you will learn why the forest keeps so many secrets. Come, follow me past the elder roots, and try not to lose yourself in me before the sun rises.
