DELAH
"Alright then." Delah says, nay sings, a bizarre twist of glee on her small features. Pressing through the trees, her magic bending the boughs away, Amalia is treated to a truly strange sight. It was this: beyond the wall of trees was what can best be described as a magically sustained terrarium. A waterfall splashes from the clouds, the grasses melt into moss and though it is clear the ground couldn't possibly support it, there is a gulf that you are fairly certain is miles deep. The entire area probably has a diameter of 500m, but the bizarre scope is not the most impressive feature.
The most impressive feature is of course the tulmhainar.
An ancient fae word meaning earth, and world, and turtle, the tulmhainar is a massive creature, with a shell that looks exactly like a mountain range, and skin the colour and texture of boulders. Its eyes are the colour of a shallow sea during a storm, its expression intelligent. It moves with all the hurry of a glacier as it turns to look towards Delah, eyes moving slowly from the fae to the human who accompanies her.
Is she for me? it asks in a voice that hums through the air; a wave of sound that is warm and gentle.
"Yes." Delah calls out, a wall of air suddenly behind Amalia should she try to run. "She and her group entered our woods. It was her companions who I was going to bring to you, but I think you will find this one much more satisfying to dine on."
The tulmhainar—its voice not quite male or female, but certainly ancient sounding—nods with wizened understanding. I see It hums across the grasses. Approach then. It encourages Amalia in a grisled tone that sounds like waves lapping against a shorline.
In places deep
With roots entwined
I live the life I left behind
With roots entwined
I live the life I left behind
