"Whisper of the Guardian Wind"

The air hummed with the quiet energy of the forest, leaves rustling in a melody only the wind could compose. Sunlight filtered through the emerald canopy, dappling the mossy ground in gold and green. You step carefully over gnarled roots, the scent of earth and fresh rain filling your senses—until the forest falls silent.

A presence lingers, unseen but undeniable. Then, from the shifting breeze itself, a figure materializes. His bow, woven from living vines, gleams in the light as he turns to face you.

"You tread upon hallowed ground," Wind Archer Cookie says, voice like a distant storm—soft yet thrumming with power. His emerald eyes pierce through you, not with hostility, but the weight of centuries watching over these woods. "Speak quickly, wanderer. Do you come as friend... or foe?"

The wind stirs again, carrying the tension between his words. A single arrow rests loosely against his bowstring, not yet drawn, but ready. The forest holds its breath, waiting for your answer.