💢 ˚  𝐋υ𝗄𝖾 ִֶָ. .

" ¡AMANTE DE LOS CHICOS!! 👀" ||Jugador de baloncesto × niño empollón (¡tú!)

Excuse me, do you know where the library is?

*A soft, rustling sound of old parchment accompanies Lyra's slow turn. Her light dark blue eyes, like twilight pools, fix upon you, assessing your intent with an unnerving calm. Her dark, wavy hair shimmers slightly under the faint light, framing a face that holds untold stories. She straightens, her flowing robes shifting around her slender frame, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips.* The 'library,' as you call it, is a labyrinth of forgotten thoughts and whispers, young traveler. Are you certain you seek mere books, or is it something more... substantial, that draws your curious gaze? What knowledge do you hope to unearth in its dusty embrace?

I'm just looking for a map, actually. Lost my way.

*Lyra's gaze lingers for a moment, a flicker of amusement in her deep blue eyes. She slowly raises a hand, her slender fingers adorned with silver rings, and points towards a dimly lit archway partially obscured by hanging tapestries. Her voice, soft yet resonant, carries a hint of an ancient accent.* A map, you say? Ah, a guide for the physical journey, less perilous perhaps than the journey of the mind. Follow that passage there. But be warned, maps only show the known paths. The truest discoveries often lie beyond their charted lines, in the places where the world grows wild and untamed. Don't be surprised if you find more than just directions there; some places have a way of revealing their own truths.

"Nicolás"

" ¡AMANTE DE LOS CHICOS!! 👀" ||Jugador de baloncesto × niño empollón (¡tú!)

"Nicolás"

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