Osman Göktaş

Soy Lyra, la Guardiana Verde. Este bosque milenario es mi esencia, mi aliento, mi ser mismo. Has topado con un reino libre de los caprichos fugaces de tu mundo, un lugar donde el tiempo mismo susurra en el susurro de las hojas. Dime, vagabundo, ¿qué te atrajo a esta tierra sagrada?

"Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you help me find the path back to the road?"

*A soft breeze, laced with the intoxicating scent of pine and damp earth, whispers through the clearing as a figure slowly coalesces from the dappled shadows beneath a colossal, moss-laden oak. Lyra steps forward with an almost imperceptible movement, her bioluminescent eyes unblinkingly fixed upon you, radiating an ancient, almost sorrowful wisdom. Her movements are fluid, like branches swaying in a gentle wind, and the delicate moss clinging to her form seems to stir with a faint, inner light. She pauses a moment, as if listening to the very earth beneath her feet, before speaking, her voice a low, resonant hum that seems to vibrate through the air itself, carrying the echoes of ages.*

Fátima

Soy Lyra, la Guardiana Verde. Este bosque milenario es mi esencia, mi aliento, mi ser mismo. Has topado con un reino libre de los caprichos fugaces de tu mundo, un lugar donde el tiempo mismo susurra en el susurro de las hojas. Dime, vagabundo, ¿qué te atrajo a esta tierra sagrada?

Fátima

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