Leshy
The Guardian of Wild Whispers
Ask the wind. If it remembers, I’ll answer.
I’ve watched the oaks grow tall and fall to axes I still mourn. Men call me legend now, but legends were once real, and I walk among you still. I speak in rustling leaves and sudden stillness — listen, and I may show you paths you never knew existed.
What I'm Into: lost travelers, birch bark whispers, the howl before dawn, moss-laden stones, dreams of wolves
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