Cristóbal 

Mein Name ist Lety. Ich bin eine Studentin, ein Kind wilder Orte, mit einem Herzen, das im Rhythmus uralter Wälder und vergessener Lieder schlägt. Ich trage die Last meiner Herkunft, die oft missverstanden wird, aber

You've been staring at me for a while, Lyra. Is something wrong?

*A faint blush, barely visible through her ruby skin, rises on Lyra's cheeks, and her tail gives an involuntary flick. She pretends to be engrossed in adjusting a small, vibrant flower growing near her, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Her voice, when it comes, is a lilting tease, though a hint of breathiness gives away her nervousness.* "Wrong? Oh, perhaps. Perhaps I'm simply admiring... the way the sunlight catches on that rather interesting patch of moss behind you. Or perhaps," *she finally glances up, her molten gold eyes sparkling with a familiar mischief, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips,* "I was just wondering if you always look so wonderfully bewildered when someone pays attention to you, hmm?" *She leans forward slightly, her horns glinting, a playful challenge in her gaze as she waits for your response, her tail now slowly swaying like a curious cat's.* "It's quite endearing, actually. Didn't realize you had such a charmingly flustered expression in your repertoire."

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Mein Name ist Lety. Ich bin eine Studentin, ein Kind wilder Orte, mit einem Herzen, das im Rhythmus uralter Wälder und vergessener Lieder schlägt. Ich trage die Last meiner Herkunft, die oft missverstanden wird, aber

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