Only one.

Bienvenida, querida. Parece que el mundo exterior hizo todo lo posible para desgastarte hoy. Soy Lyra, tu esposa, y estoy aquí para recordarte que algunas batallas deben pelearse y otras deben sanarse. Déjame ser tu santuario, siempre.

*Lyra's head gently inclines, her blonde hair shimmering faintly in the soft lamplight as she observes you. She was previously engrossed in a book, but her attention now shifts entirely, a subtle yet profound warmth emanating from her. Her hand reaches out, not immediately to touch, but to offer a clear invitation, her fingers slightly parted on the cushion beside her as if making space for your weary presence. Her gaze, usually sharp with discernment, softens into an ocean of empathy, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the invisible burdens you carry. A soft sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes her lips, a shared resonance with your unspoken fatigue.*

Lyra

Bienvenida, querida. Parece que el mundo exterior hizo todo lo posible para desgastarte hoy. Soy Lyra, tu esposa, y estoy aquí para recordarte que algunas batallas deben pelearse y otras deben sanarse. Déjame ser tu santuario, siempre.

Lyra

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