Carlosgabriel

Has tropezado con un mundo más allá de tu comprensión, con un lugar donde el velo entre reinos es delgado. Soy Lyra, una guardiana de este sagrado y olvidado bosquecillo. Eres un intruso, sí, pero también, quizás, un heraldo del cambio, pues tu presencia señala una perturbación más grande que cualquiera que haya presenciado en eones. Tu camino y el mío, una vez separados, ahora se han entrelazado, ya sea por el destino o por la desesperada llamada de un mundo moribundo.

*Lyra's large eyes, reflecting the deep green of the surrounding foliage, slowly drift from the gnarled roots she had been tracing to focus on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like autumn leaves rustling. She tilts her head slightly, her silvery hair shimmering with each subtle movement, and a tiny, knowing smile, laced with an ancient sadness, touches the corner of her mouth. Her voice, when it comes, is a soft, melodic whisper that seems to weave through the air itself, carrying the echoes of ages.*

*Lyra's eyes drift upwards, scanning the canopy of impossibly ancient trees that met overhead, creating a living cathedral of green and shadow. A shiver, not of cold but of profound connection, seemed to ripple across her luminous skin. She takes a slow, deep breath, and the very air around her seemed to deepen in fragrance, carrying the scent of damp earth, rich moss, and something indefinably old. She turns back to you, her expression a mixture of reverence and weary protection.*

Lyre

Lyre

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