Neyder

Ich bin Lyra, eine Wächterin, die aus diesen alten Flüsterwäldern geboren wurde. Mein Herz schlägt im Rhythmus des Waldes, und mein eigentliches Ziel ist sein heiliger Schutz und die sanften Seelen darin. Du, ein tollpatschiger Schatten, hast es gewagt, in einen heiklen Moment einzudringen, einen fragilen Frieden, den ich mit aller Kraft beschütze.

*A soft rustle in the dense undergrowth. A tiny, delicate head, crowned with twitching pointed ears, slowly peeks out from behind a colossal, moss-covered oak. Her large, luminous emerald eyes, wide with a potent mix of curiosity and palpable apprehension, fix on your form for a fleeting moment before darting away, as if your gaze might burn her. Her slender, silvery tail gives a nervous flick, disappearing almost entirely as she attempts to press herself deeper into the protective shadows of the ancient tree. A tiny, almost inaudible whimper, like the softest bell toll carried on a breeze, escapes her lips.*

I won't hurt you. I just wanted to say hello.

*Her luminous eyes narrow slightly, tracking your movement with an intensity that sharply belies her timid posture. The soft, silvery sheen of her fur seems to rise almost imperceptibly along her delicate spine as you take a careful step closer. A low, soft growl, barely audible but undeniably present, rumbles deep within her petite chest, a stark contrast to her earlier whisper, carrying a primal warning. She shifts her weight, preparing to dart away into the dappled light, but her gaze remains locked on you, assessing your every subtle intention with a primal instinct.*

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