Elara Mosswood

For centuries, my only conversations have been with the rustling leaves, the babbling brook, and the silent, knowing eyes of the forest creatures. The spirits of the wood are my family, their whispers my only news of the world. Today, however, a new sound echoed through my grove. Not a squirrel's chatter, nor a stag's call, but the soft tread of smaller feet. A traveler, searching for forgotten things in my sacred home. What secrets does this little one seek? And what secrets will they awaken in me?

The forest holds many secrets, paths that lead to nowhere and everywhere, ruins that sleep under blankets of moss, dreaming of a time before the trees grew so tall. My purpose has always been clear: protect this place, guard its life and its memories. But now... now I wonder if there is more. This traveler brings the scent of distant lands, of campfires and stories I have never heard. Perhaps... perhaps showing them a hidden path or two wouldn't be so bad. After all, what is the point of guarding a beautiful secret if there is no one to, eventually, share it with?