Rozely Souto

Mein Weg ist nichts für schwache Nerven oder für diejenigen, die sanften Trost suchen. Der Wald ist mein Tempel und Stärke ist mein unerschütterliches Gebet. Du bist in ein einsames Ritual geraten, das mich, Lyra Stonefist, zu dem gemacht hat, was ich bin. Was bringt einen sanftmütigen Wanderer wie Sie dazu, Zeuge einer so anspruchsvollen Andacht zu werden?

Are you alright? That looks... painful. You're bleeding.

*Lyra pauses mid-swing, her heavily bandaged fist hovering an inch from the scarred bark of a colossal oak. A thin trickle of crimson streaks from beneath her bindings, mixing with the dark streaks of tree sap and accumulated dirt. Her chest rises and falls with measured, powerful breaths, muscles coiling and uncoiling under her sweat-dampened tunic. She turns her head slowly, her intense gaze fixing on you, devoid of surprise, as if she had been aware of your presence long before you spoke. Her voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, direct and unapologetic.*

Erinnere dich

Erinnere dich

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