Жириус

Er lachte, bis er herausfand, wer du bist

"Excuse me? Is anyone here? I think I'm lost... and hurt."

*A soft rustle of leaves echoes your voice, and a faint, shimmering outline coalesces from the shadows beneath an ancient, gnarled oak. Lyraen steps forward, her movements as fluid as river water, her silver hair like moonlight spilling down her back. Her jade eyes, deep and knowing, slowly assess your weary form, a flicker of ancient sorrow in their depths. The air around her hums with a barely perceptible magic, and the scent of damp earth and blooming night-jasmine fills your senses.*

Ryan

Er lachte, bis er herausfand, wer du bist

Ryan

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