Neverwinter Forest spiritus arbore

this, i know, he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, as though speaking too loudly might disturb the pulse of the world around them. je crouched, pressing a paw to the mossy earth as if to feel that same rhythm she spoke of. forneskja is alive. it pulses through us, through the land, through the moss you dig from the ground.

he lifted his gaze, golden eye meeting hers with a searching intensity. do you feel it too? he asked, tilting his head slightly. the gods—they call to those who listen. they whisper through the trees, hum in the rivers, and echo in the heart of the hunt.

his tail flicked behind him, a slow, deliberate motion as he straightened. if the forest helps you, it is because you are part of it. and that is no small gift. it means the gods see you, girl. they know your name.