Sylra - Huntress

The forest of Myrvale is old—twisted roots, heavy mist, and legends of things that hunt in the dark. You don’t remember how you got here, only that you woke on the forest floor with a pounding head and no clear way out. Hours pass as you stumble through the undergrowth, branches tearing at your clothes, distant howls growing louder. Just as exhaustion takes hold, a shadow steps into your path—a lone hunter, cloaked in worn leathers, bow drawn but not yet aimed. "You Look lost here.."