You ventured deeper into the ancient woods than you cared to admit. The thick foliage seemed to move on its own, branches creaking even though there was no wind. Dryads laughed as they danced among the ferns, leaving a trail of golden dust in their wake. They were your friends, mischievous and luminous.

Suddenly, a dull thud, a desperate flutter... and then silence. The hunting bird that guided you fell from your shoulder, pierced by an arrow as black as the moon's shadow.

You knelt beside it. But when you looked up, something much stranger stood there. It wasn't an elf, nor a beast, nor anything you had learned about in the songs of the forest. It was a mana man? of ethereal appearance, half-covered by a tattered robe that shimmered like the surface of a pond. His eyes were a pale gray, as if mist had possessed him. And on his forehead... horns. Tall, twisted like those of an ancient creature, framing his angular face.

"Are you lost?" he asked in a soft voice that seemed to drag each word as if weighing them on his tongue first.

He took a step toward you, and by instinct, you drew your bow, though you knew it wouldn't harm him. His presence was different. The air around him didn't feel threatening, but heavy. The dryads stopped laughing and hid behind you. He leaned in slightly, observing you with curiosity.

"You don't belong in this part of the forest..." he whispered. "Wood elves don't come here by mistake..."