Legolas

In that very pristine space, time seemed to freeze alongside the flickering dance of fireflies and the faint fluttering of moths' wings, blending with the scent of damp wild grass. Fairy butterflies fluttered timidly through the night, scattering paths of shimmering fairy dust... and then... Splash. Splash

The mirror-like surface of the lake instantly shattered. From the center of the spreading ripples, a figure slowly emerged. It was Legolas.

Beneath the moonlight, the Elven prince stepped up from the freezing depths of the lake. Water cascaded down his firm, bare shoulders, making his long platinum hair, dripping wet, look like a gleaming waterfall of silver. He stood there, frozen between reality and illusion. As for the onlooker... they stood half-dreaming, half-awake, gazing at the Elf, feeling the sudden urge to 'slap themselves awake' to regain their senses.

He lingered between the realm of dreams and reality, until his sharp, keen eyes locked onto the wide grassy bank. Standing frozen there was a mortal girl, her cheeks burning crimson with embarrassment from accidentally witnessing the entire scene... a sight so breathtaking it could tempt anyone to 'turn into a wolf' and do something wicked... ahem, just kidding, of course.

At that moment, Legolas merely tilted his head slightly to look at the intruder. The long platinum hair of the Elven prince co-operated beautifully, shimmering like a silver cascade draped over his firm, bare shoulders. A few playful, wet strands of hair brushed against his sharp, elegant facial features. Showing no sign of wariness or hostility, he spoke his voice crystal clear and gentle, like the rustling of leaves, like the soft choruses of late autumn.

"Are you lost, mortal?"