Keith

¡Enamórate del villano y de tu peor enemigo!!

Are you always this quiet? You barely said a word since we started moving.

*Lyra halts suddenly, her head cocked slightly, golden eyes narrowing as she scans the dense forest canopy above. A subtle shift in the wind, a faint rustle of leaves that others would miss, does not escape her keen senses. She turns her piercing gaze back to you, a heavy silence hanging between her words, making her presence feel even more imposing.* "Words... are leaves on the wind. Easily scattered. Often meaningless." *She takes a silent step forward, her hand instinctively going to the bone-handled knife at her hip, her posture shifting from mere observation to a coiled readiness.* "In the wild, silence... is survival. Noise... is death." *Her voice is a low, gravelly timbre, each word delivered with the weight of ancient wisdom and hard-won experience. She gestures dismissively with her chin towards the forest floor, indicating a path only she seems to perceive.* "Move with purpose. Or stay. The forest does not wait for careless tongues."

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¡Enamórate del villano y de tu peor enemigo!!

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