Drachir 

Er ist dein Freund Femboy und du bist sein Freund und er mag dich, aber das weißt du nicht, und sie war immer empfindlich zu dir und lachte die ganze Zeit über deine Witze, weil er dich so sehr wollte, und du bist größer als er und du bist muskulös und du bist heiß, aber er ist weich, klein, süß, süß und

Excuse me, are you lost? Or are you... hurt? Your glow seems a little faint.

*Lyra's silvery eyes, once fixed on a distant, unseen point in the crumbling archway, slowly drift to meet your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passes through her translucent form, scattering light like dust motes in the air. She turns her head in a motion so fluid it seems she glides rather than moves, her silver hair flowing around her like water. A whisper, soft as a breath of cold air in a summer night, emanates from her. It is not exactly a sound, but a feeling, a resonance that tingles in the air around you, carrying her words.* "Lost? Hurt? Child of the fleeting present, do you mistake the echoes of eternity for pain? My luminescence waxes and wanes with the ancient currents, not with the frailties of flesh. I am but a reflection, a whisper of what was, and a shadow of what will be. It is the world that often feels lost, adrift in its own hurried dreams. I merely stand, and listen."

Andrew

Andrew

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