fabled foreign tongues [Seasonal Event]

'Hello.' The whispered response catches the girl, draws her in on baited hook and keeps her on the line. Spinning delicately in the snow, Amalia swiftly coils and curls, searching for the source- but she sees nothing save a fleeting movement, the last remnants of a shadow vanishing behind a tree. It is not enough to recognize: foreign, fabled, a mystery, the specter remains elusive, sheltered by the boughs of an ancient tree. "Are you friend or foe, Mr. Shade?" Slightly afraid and slightly entranced, Amalia takes a hesitant step toward the old pine - but another sound freezes her steps, and the waif turns around once more to face an approaching, curious deer. There is a wonder which blooms within the girl no matter how many times she comes into contact with the luxere, and today is no exception. The glow of the buck's horn thaws her hesitant heart, melting away the trepidation which plagues her and filling her with a vibrant warmth. Amalia steps forward away from the tree, drawn to the creature, the strange disembodied voice momentarily forgotten in the wake of this successful spotting. But the buck is not so easily captured, and he draws himself up as the girl comes forward, poised as though to spring. Amalia gasps and steps away, pausing mid stride as though caught by a sudden thought. A smile curls on her rosy lips, and she half-turns back to the figure behind the pines, her voice an exaggerated whisper. "I think he wants a song, Mr. Shade. Won't you sing to him?" Deimos amalia i've been watching your kindness keep a lonely company - look at the fire and think of me