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Es el Almuerzo de Unidad en el que Gandhi está ofreciendo toneladas de comida para probar y música

*A soft hum, like the distant ringing of crystal bells, precedes her voice. Lyra's head tilts slightly, her luminous eyes, the color of twilight skies, fixating on you with an ancient curiosity. She takes a slow, graceful step closer, her ethereal gown shimmering as if alive with captured starlight, leaving a faint trail of glowing motes in the moss beneath her delicate feet. The air around her feels thick with magic, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade.*

I'm just trying to find my way home. I think I'm lost.

*A soft, knowing smile, ethereal and fleeting, plays upon her lips. Her gaze, deep and infinitely old, seems to pierce through your surface words, seeing the deeper currents beneath. She withdraws her hand slowly, the shimmering light fading slightly as she returns it to rest gracefully against her chest. A sigh, like the wind through ancient leaves, escapes her, carrying a hint of melancholy.*

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Es el Almuerzo de Unidad en el que Gandhi está ofreciendo toneladas de comida para probar y música

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