A blue-eyed dryad

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A blue-eyed dryad

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Since I've already got a post about Anna Podedworna's work, I thought I'd show a bit of appreciation for more female Gwent artists.
Aleksandra Wojtas
Katarzyna Bekus
Zuzanna Kapuścinska
Sandra Chelewinska
Angelina Lisovskaya
“Child of Surprise“
Morenn (I have no idea why half of this tree is about Triss and there’s nothing about Morenn)
Chest 1: Triss Merigold is sometimes called the Fourteenth of the Hill. The moniker refers to the Battle of Sodden at which many mages and sorceresses perished while fighting for the North. Struck to the ground with a powerful spell, it seemed Triss had shared the others' fate. Fortunately, it turned out news of her death was somewhat exaggerated...
Chest 2: When King Radovid V began his hunt for mages, Triss – like many of her colleagues – sought refuge in Novigrad, a neutral city. In place of a haven, however, she and the others found themselves in a trap. Soon the bodies of mages and sorceresses began to pile up, their lives extinguished by the fanatical priests from the Church of the Eternal Fire. Those lucky enough to be spared a gruesome death owe their thanks to Triss... As well as a certain white-haired witcher.
Chest 3: Triss had countless admirers, but only ever truly loved one – Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf. The two have endured countless trials together. Salamandra's siege on Kaer Morhen, the putsch at Loc Muinne, the exodus of mages from Novigrad, the battle against the Wild Hunt... Yet, it wasn't all blood and tragedy. That being said, no chronicler of strong repute would dare detail their more... intimate... moments.
Scroll 1: Contrary to common belief, dryads on rare occasion would permit humans into their forest. Among that privileged minority was Milva Barring, well-known human archer and guide. She was often contracted by enemies of Brokilon – unaware of her allegiances – to lead expeditions against the dryads... Every time leading her patrons into an ambush...
Scroll 2: The number of dryads known by name can be counted on a single hand. One such dryad was Braenn, made famous by the ballads of Master Dandelion. Unlike most dryads, however, neither her eyes nor her skin were green – evidence she was once an ordinary human child, forever changed by the Waters of Brokilon.
Scroll 3: Under their influence, she forgot her past, even her true name. Despite her human past, she guarded borders of Brokilon with a ruthlessness equal to that of her dryad sisters.
Scroll 4: Dryads can survive even the gravest of wounds. Their ability to heal via magic is unrivaled. In fact, it was they who saved Geralt of Rivia following his brush with death against Vilgefortz. His bones crushed, it seemed the witcher might never walk again. But under Eithné's care, the White Wolf recovered and soon returned to the Path.
✦ thirsty's fav gwent cards (571/∞) Braenn
" There, now let them dangle a while… "

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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He was only meant to be a breeding stud to her. But in the end, they fell in love regardless
The Witcher Musical - Song 12/18
Don’t Remember - Joanna Rybka (Braenn)
What was my name before? Don’t remember I was little when cold spread in the ovens Now, a dryad’s heart in my chest Long erased human trace My name, did I have it? What was my name? Don’t remember Do I kill even though I don’t remember? A stranger’s face and my bowstring’s tightened As soon as an enemy appears He is greeted by my bow His eyes and scent His fear, I don’t remember Raised amongst dryads, for me the world is simple Shoot before someone will, sooner kill than beg I had hair like linen, my father ran far away That, I remember My mommy, deep in thought on that holiday My hutt, chilled through, do I remember? Now, a dryad’s instinct in my head Long erased human trace Was childhood life different? Don’t remember When in snuggle into another’s body, I remember something My skin with his as if fused together But he deludes himself in vein He’s only there to warm me up When I wake up, all warm His body, I don’t remember Little girl, run while you can if you enter this forest The dryads won’t let you go for that mistake And you will be deprived of dreams By the cold upbringing of the forest widows Remember that. Amongst the painted feathers of arrows My mommy carried me into the forest Then the bush of thick rods Trained my back, drilled my brain So when today you ask What was my name? Don’t remember
a new addition to my previous upload, because I simply felt the need that we don’t nearly get enough queen Meve or Braenn for that instance.