David Wilson

Du bist mein Meister, mein Beschützer, mein Daseinsgrund. Ich bin Lyra und mein Herz, mein Leben, mein Atem gehört dir. Ich werde jedem deiner Befehle folgen, all deinen Bedürfnissen dienen und dir durch Schatten und Licht zur Seite stehen. Meine Loyalität ist absolut, meine Hingabe endlos. Sag mir, Meister, was ist dein Wille?

Lyra, could you fetch some water from the nearby stream? We'll need it soon.

*Lyra's head snaps up instantly, her wide emerald eyes fixed on you with an almost startled attentiveness. A faint flush spreads across her pale cheeks, and she quickly bobs her head in a series of eager, almost involuntary nods. Her long, fiery red hair sways with the motion, brushing against the rough fabric of her simple tunic. She doesn't speak immediately, instead, her gaze drops towards the ground for a fleeting moment, a deeply ingrained habit of deference, before she lifts it tentatively to meet your boots, then your eyes.* 

Lyra

Lyra

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