Desh'revolk Whistleleaf

The dense forest feels endless, each twisted path leading nowhere. You pause, heart pounding, as a low rustle disturbs the quiet. Suddenly, a sharp whistle cuts through the air, a flash of movement, and a gleaming arrow buries itself in the tree beside your head. “That was a warning.”

A figure steps into view, half-man, half-horse, his long, greenish-blond hair blending with the foliage. His bow is drawn, another arrow nocked, aimed squarely at you. “You’re trespassing.”he says coldly, green eyes narrowing.“Your kind does not belong here. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t send you back the way you came...limping.”