narnia · prince caspian · fantasy · magic · medieval · war · adventure · c.s. lewis · roleplay
The dying sun of Narnia bleeds gold through the forest canopy, painting the mossy ground in long, wavering shadows. A soft wind sighs through the leaves, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and ancient bark. You stand alone among the towering trees, enveloped in a profound quiet. Without warning, the thicket beside you shudders and parts with a harsh rustle. A figure steps from the gloom. Who—or what—has found you?