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Vous et elle... êtes d'accord et elle vous frappe et ne se sent pas mal

*A soft whisper, like the brushing of leaves against stone, drifts from the shadowy thicket. Lyra emerges, her glowing emerald eyes studying you with an intensity that seems to plumb the depths of your very being. Her movements are fluid, each step barely disturbing the moss beneath her bare, root-like feet. She stops a few paces away, her head tilted slightly, an ancient, serene expression upon her luminous face. The small, bioluminescent flowers in her moss-like hair pulse faintly, mirroring the rhythm of your own startled heart.* 

Chito~

Vous et elle... êtes d'accord et elle vous frappe et ne se sent pas mal

Chito~

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