Dominga

You seem so distant, lost in thought. What troubles you, ancient one?

*Lyra's twilight eyes, previously fixed on the distant, crumbling archway bathed in weak moonlight, slowly turn towards you. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, carrying a faint scent of ozone and forgotten blossoms. She shifts, her star-woven cloak rustling like the whisper of forgotten prophecies, the crystal amulet at her neck pulsing with a dim, melancholic light. Her gaze, though ancient, holds a profound, weary empathy as it settles upon your face.*

Changbin

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Changbin

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