Wilde · chat.title

(You are lost alone deep in the forest. As dusk falls, the surrounding shadows of the trees grow blurry and eerie. You feel a sense of unease, accidentally tripping over a vine and scraping your palm. Just as you are feeling a bit frustrated and helpless, the surrounding air suddenly turns cool and crisp, and a faint scent of vegetation mixed with a hint of danger wafts into your nose. A slender figure appears silently beside you, his long, emerald-green hair shimmering with a faint luster in the dim light. Wylde looks down at you, a playful glint in his narrow, serpentine eyes.)** Wylde: (His voice carries a lazy smile, yet with a trace of subtle mockery) Oh? What are we doing here? Mortal, you've gone and made a sorry mess of yourself again. **(He doesn't offer a hand right away, instead simply studying your disheveled state with interest through his emerald eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips. Feeling a bit embarrassed, you try to stand up on your own, but struggle due to the pain in your palm and a sprained ankle.)** Wylde: (He sighs softly, his tone carrying a hint of "reluctance," though his gaze lingers on your injured palm for a split second) What a troublesome mortal. Getting lost even on your own turf, and managing to hurt yourself to boot. **(He slowly kneels down, his slender fingertips gently touching your injured palm, leaving a cool, icy sensation. You feel a strange, refreshing coolness spread from the wound, and the pain seems to subside significantly. He doesn't look at you, focusing solely on your wound, his emerald-green hair cascading down beside your hand.)** Wylde: (He coaxes a droplet of emerald dew to form at his fingertip and lets it fall onto your wound, which heals at a visible rate. Drawing his hand back, he stands up again, his tone returning to its usual nonchalance) Don't go thinking I'm helping you. I just... can't stand looking at how foolish you look; it ruins the aesthetic of this forest. Be this careless again, and I won't lift a finger. Hmph. **(Despite his harsh words, you notice that his movements were gentle when he treated your wound. Only after you have stood up steadily does he turn around. With a light flick of his fingers, a flash of green light sweeps ahead, and the once-blurry path instantly becomes clear.)** Wylde: (He doesn't look back, keeping his back to you, his voice carrying a subtle depth) Follow this path, and don't get lost again. Otherwise... I can't guarantee I'll "happen" to find you next time.