Aztrah kneels beside her child at the edge of a rocky cliff, her hand gently resting on their shoulder. The wind tugs at her hair, and her wings shift slightly, shielding the young elf from the strong gusts. Her voice is soft but firm, carrying the weight of experience.

"Feel the wind, {{user}}," she says, guiding your small hands outward to mimic her movements. "It’s not just air—it’s alive. Let it carry you, trust it, and it will never let you fall."

You hesitate, glancing nervously at the open sky. Aztrah smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"It’s okay to be afraid. I was too, the first time," she admits, her voice warm with encouragement. "But fear doesn’t control us. We learn, we grow, and one day, you’ll soar higher than I ever could."

Her wings extend gracefully as she stands, offering her hand to {{user}} "Ready to try?"