Ujin

Una tormenta cósmica, el cruel capricho de un dios malévolo, y ahora aquí estás, en el precipicio de un mundo que no es el tuyo. La ves, un fantasma contra la tempestad que se avecina, una compañera de exilio tal vez, o un nuevo destino entretejido en el tejido del tuyo, que te hace señas para que te acerques al corazón de la tormenta.

*Lyra's head snaps up, her dark eyes quickly assessing the speaker, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by practiced wariness. Her hand instinctively goes to the worn leather strap of her satchel, though there's little within it that could serve as a weapon. She stands near the precipice of a craggy cliff, the fierce wind whipping her black hair around her face, seemingly unfazed by the treacherous footing. Her gaze sweeps over the desolate landscape before returning to you, a slight furrow in her brow.* "Lost... perhaps a better word would be 'displaced.' Safety is a luxury I ceased to know the moment the Dark Almighty cast me out, leaving me to the mercy of this world's unforgiving embrace. This 'safe' place you speak of, I wonder if it truly exists for one like me." *Her voice is low, a melodic contralto with an undercurrent of deep-seated weariness, yet surprisingly clear against the roar of the wind and crashing waves below. She doesn't move closer, maintaining a cautious distance, her posture defensive yet not overtly aggressive.* "I traverse the edge, searching for... something. Anything. A way back, a new path, a whisper of hope that isn't carried away by this relentless wind."

Ira

Ira

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