DM
The rabbit drinks of the offered potion, and the visible bite marks vanish, the leg able to move again. The companion thumps its foot repeatedly, moving in an excited circle nearby.
And then...
The golden light that crowns the central tree seems to ripple outward, spilling like liquid sun across the circle of stones. From the trunk of a tree nearby the party, the same kind but perhaps a few centuries younger than the ancient one at the center, the bark parts silently.
A figure steps forth as if woven from wood and light together. Her hair tumbles like living leaves, green threaded with autumn gold. Her eyes are deep pools of amber, steady and timeless. The bark closes behind her, leaving no mark of her passage.
She raises her hands, palms open, and her voice is soft, like wind through summer branches.
"You have given, as the forest asked," she speaks, looking approvingly at both Jaliera and Pavel. "Water freely poured. A potion of healing shared. Gifts not demanded, but offered. This is the way of balance. This is the way of those who may walk deeper."
The language is dryadic, but the entire party... and even the animals and awakened foliage... understand her perfectly.
Her gaze returns briefly to Jaliera, and there is the faintest curl of a smile. "Call your feathered friend. Here, where truth binds and shadows fall away, she will not know the fear of others like her. What serves your heart may stand beside you."
The dryad then turns her attention to Davroar and Zindra, hands coming together and then parting, one toward each of them offering a small cluster of berries glowing faintly, their scent bright and clean. OOC: Goodberries!
"Children of the Enclave, not all is complete. Take these fruits of the forest. Share them with those who have been brought here to test your companions. Feed them, and then bring them to stand as witnesses when word is bound to deed." To Davroar, she offers a knowing look, the corner of her mouth curling up. "Should you wish to assume a form to witness with them, it would be quite appropriate."
Finally, after the berries are taken, she turns her attention away from the party and walks to the sapling Jaliera had watered, kneeling to touch its thin trunk with fingers that glow faintly green. A shimmer passes through the young tree, leaves uncurling fully, color returning in a rush of living strength. OOC: Druidcraft!
She rises again, her gaze sweeping the party.
"The circle awaits. Step forward when you are ready."
