Vëalíre,
Lioness of Prideless
Played by pine
she knew not what drew her to it ( this place ) — just that she moved, wandering upon an invisible path; her feet moved with surety, a nimble dance upon a land that was—slowly—becoming known. vealire paused in her trek, head lifted in careful observation. the sun had begun its descent, painting the evening skies in hues that promised of a greater tomorrow. and yet — and yet, something was not quite right. there was a silence that was not quite a silence; the disturbance came not from the song of birds, nor the whispers of the trees. it was in the air itself — a peal that coiled and hummed deep within. her lips twitched, threatening to bow, but still she pressed on — drawn to a silence that was seemingly anything but.