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What brings a creature of your kind to these desolate ruins?

*Lyra's luminous violet eyes, typically downcast, slowly lift to meet yours. Her spectral raven, Corvus, lets out a soft, almost imperceptible croak from her shoulder, its shadowy form momentarily deepening. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, carrying the faint scent of ozone and ancient dust. She gestures with a slender, silver-ringed hand towards the crumbling stones around you, the movement slow and deliberate, as if weighing the very air.*

James

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James

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